| Hark to Roualt’s white insanity
|
| Clowns in drag concealing vanity
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| This is hardly Paradise
|
| We’re still in search of petty scorn
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| Images so dead in mourning
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| Clap and cheer the man performing
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| This is hardly Paradise
|
| We’re still in search of petty scorn
|
| Couch my disease in chintz-covered kisses
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| Glazed calico cloth, my costume this is
|
| Come to Pablo Fanque’s in indigo
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| We’ll show you pastel shades of rhyme
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| Take a letter, Ophelia, write
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| «Sorry Desdemona» bright
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| Peeking through the nimbus covers
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| We see the twisted tale of Man
|
| Catch us in the cornfield hiding
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| Me, Maryse and Moonbeams gliding
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| Peeking through the nimbus covers
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| We see the twisted tale of Man
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| Careless, caress, curl up beside me
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| Visit, sleep and smile, and drown me
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| March together, slay like Nero
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| We’ll show you something you understand
|
| (Originally this was «Now we have something you understand.»)
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| Oh! |
| the clown, his stare is eyeless
|
| Shall he make you laugh or cry, yes
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| March together, slay like Nero
|
| We’ll show you something you understand
|
| The other verses are from the Cockney Rebel original version. |
| I’ve left them in
|
| for general interest. |
| Also Steve and Marty performed the whole thing live at
|
| least once
|
| It is time to hide my body
|
| Shall we start to speak of Holly
|
| I don’t wanna be that superhero
|
| 'Til you have something we understand
|
| Heard they’re moving Pisces into June
|
| Shall we put together a platoon
|
| I don’t wanna be that superhero
|
| 'Til you have something we understand |