It won't leave without you, you colosal nit, you're dumbfounding me now. Forty-five minutes of starts and stops, locked in with these lobodimous fops. Out there by the dumpsters at the edge of town. Trapeze artists who will drink gin for days, midget wrestlers trying to bail hay. And the trained seal struts out, starting our big top parade.
Clowns appear with creepy made-up faces.
They have been in certain uncouth places. Watch the strongman get his daily steroid fix, Old magicians with their banged up old tricks. And the trained seal struts out, starting our big top parade. Up there in the sky, trapeze artists try to seem weightless in the air. It's so thrilling all the time, when you finally lose your mind.