In the striped tent there is a ring, Where the high wire walkers do their prance, Where the ringmaster greets the people and sings, And the beautiful girls atop horses dance. The clowns run out between the acts With floppy shoes and red round noses, They cavort about, run up and back, And spray each other with fire hoses. Faces stained by cotton candy, Watch with marvel as the trapeze girl Flies through the air. Show that ends as the calliope swirls. The people go, with yawns and smiles, While the circus packs to travel more miles.
Some people count on their fingers and even on their toes.
Provided your aid is needed. If not, you'll be thought an ass. Thus, caution must be heeded, If you aspire to class. Flying Over London I sit in my chair and squint at the glare. As I ease back the stick and take to the air.