When they look around   And they will look around   They'll be without the kind of things   We lax about   Do with backround inventions   For one last glimpse to the real      When devils astounded   Deepest instincts sound   Joys to be around   Commendable tones   A commanding role   For the crowd we bow   And are bound to      Begging and borrowing   Burrowing and bringing all sorts with him   And come to think of it   You're like a christmas dinner   A cupful of steep   Full, ready to reap   But it won't keep   There's holes, it's all show   You needed harnessing      But I hope you win the lottery   No tom-foolery   It's a genuine wish   I long for fairground attractions   For one last go at the wheel      Blow...   Blow...   Blow...   Blow...      And begging and borrowing   Burrowing and bringing all sorts with him   I'm trying but trying is frightening   I packed for an outing   An endless task   Though anything goes      Blow...   Blow...   Blow...   Blow...