| Did anyone see my last marble |
| As it rolled out and over the floor? |
| It fell through a hole in the corner |
| Of a room in a town on a tour |
| It’s lonely without your last marble |
| I miss it not rattling around |
| As I lie in my bed there’s a space in my head |
| Where there used to be colours and sound. |
| When I was a child I had marbles |
| They brought admiration and fame |
| They were pretty to look at and marbles |
| Was always my favourite game |
| We played all the summer days |
| In the stony alleyways |
| In the playground after class |
| We would trade the coloured glass |
| More valuable than diamonds |
| More magical than diamonds |
| Did anyone see. |
| Did anyone see. |
| Does anyone see? |
| There were almost four hundred until the black day |
| I discovered how high they would fly to the sky |
| If you used them for tennis instead of a ball. |
| Zinging glass satellites crueller than fate |
| Whacked with a racket up into the blue |
| I’d smashed all the greenhouses on the estate |
| And a crowd formed a queue at the gate. |
| That was almost the end of my marbles |
| Confiscated, I choked back the tears |
| I hung onto a handful of favourites |
| That disappeared over the years |
| Did anyone see my last marble |
| I swear that I had it before |
| Sometimes I think I should go see a shrink |
| In case he can find me some more |
| Did anyone see my last marble? |
| I’d saved it to give it away |
| Since I was a youth |
| Now I don’t have no proof |
| Only words |
| Only words |
| Only words. |