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  • That reminds me of the time I felt
    It's time for sin and catholic guilt
    Two years later to the day
    I had reason to confess
    With her hair a shining shade
    Of bus-conductress blonde
    Tales of music and movement
    Were told in grip and groan
    But to put these thoughts
    In songs like theirs
    Of the honest truth
    There'd be no trace
    Just lying out loud
    Meanwhile back here in wonderland
    A sorry sight with flowers in hand
    Pours his heart out till his thirst
    For college girls is satisfied
    Standing there with ego
    Proudly on tip-toe
    All the time I'm thinking
    Well, well, here we go
    Another perfect song of grief
    Brings the house down to its knees
    By dying out loud
    One more awful dancer
    Steptoe's son a song and dance of love
    When I think of soap operas
    And what makes them so popular
    The answer's posing in front of my eyes
    Here comes our hero in hand-me-downs
    Strutting to the strain of
    'Send in the Clowns'
    Troops his true colours
    When no-one's around
    And his desk-top tales
    Are the best around but
    Putting pain to paper reads
    Like a lunge at fame and greed
    Just crying out loud
  • That reminds me of the time I felt
    It's time for sin and catholic guilt
    Two years later to the day
    I had reason to confess
    With her hair a shining shade
    Of bus-conductress blonde
    Tales of music and movement
    Were told in grip and groan
    But to put these thoughts
    In songs like theirs
    Of the honest truth
    There'd be no trace
    Just lying out loud
    Meanwhile back here in wonderland
    A sorry sight with flowers in hand
    Pours his heart out till his thirst
    For college girls is satisfied
    Standing there with ego
    Proudly on tip-toe
    All the time I'm thinking
    Well, well, here we go
    Another perfect song of grief
    Brings the house down to its knees
    By dying out loud
    One more awful dancer
    Steptoe's son a song and dance of love
    When I think of soap operas
    And what makes them so popular
    The answer's posing in front of my eyes
    Here comes our hero in hand-me-downs
    Strutting to the strain of
    'Send in the Clowns'
    Troops his true colours
    When no-one's around
    And his desk-top tales
    Are the best around but
    Putting pain to paper reads
    Like a lunge at fame and greed
    Just crying out loud