Please trip them gently, they don't like to fall
(Oh by jingo)
There's no room for anger, we're all very small
(Oh by jingo)
We're painting our faces and dressing in thoughts from the skies, from paradise
But they think that we're holding a secretive ball
Won't someone invite them
They're just taller children, (oooo), that's all, after all

Man is an obstacle, sad as the clown
(Oh by jingo)
So hold on to nothing, and he won't let you down
(Oh by jingo)
Some people are marching together and some on their own
Quite alone
Others are running, the smaller ones crawl
But some sit in silence, they're just older children
(oooo), That's all, after all

I sing with impertinence, shading impermanent chords,
With my words

To be continued...