Walking the tight rope over quick sand
An umbrella in my hand, a snake as the handle
Fear of life far exceeds fear of death
The time is now, now I must fall
But wouldn't you know it, there's a net
Like the cartoons I shred to pieces
blowing in the wind I land in the mud
Take me to your master the worms say
Ha ha ha, ask me again on Sunday and I'll take you to a circus
Not any old circus, one with crucifictions
and thorned crown wearing clowns
tripping over their big shoes
falling in the holy water and melting away.
Sunday is the day we all have fun under the big top.