| So, there are things I know
|
| Cos I get blind
|
| But it’s not for show
|
| It’s another kind
|
| Of heel and toe,
|
| Behind the curtain
|
| O out mine eyes,
|
| Vile jelly-o
|
| I had you pegged as a kind of friend
|
| Who would see the matter through,
|
| When I looked up you’d shot through,
|
| I had to wonder was it you that I was talking to?
|
| With a sea between us, it couldn’t have been us
|
| Take this wine away
|
| All my imps are come to play
|
| Sometimes I get so low
|
| Low and lonely,
|
| There’s no-one I know,
|
| Not here for me,
|
| Just flowers and stone,
|
| Out on my throne
|
| I sit repealing my cameos
|
| I had you pegged as a kind of friend
|
| Who would see the matter through,
|
| When I looked up you’d shot through,
|
| I had to wonder was it you and me who schemed
|
| To have a submarine to come and free me
|
| Take this wine away
|
| All my imps are come to play
|
| O out mine eyes,
|
| Vile jelly-o
|
| I had you pegged as a kind of friend
|
| Who would see the matter through,
|
| When I looked up you’d shot through,
|
| I had to wonder was it you that I was talking to,
|
| Or refuse, obscene chimeras of my dream
|
| Take this wine away
|
| All my imps are come to play |