Judging by the look on the organ-grinder, he'll judge me by the fact that my face don't fit. It's touching that the monkey sits on my shoulder. He's waiting for the day when he gets me, but I don't need no alibi, I'm a puppet on a string. I just need this stage to be seen, we all need a pantomime to remind us what is real. Hold my eye and know what it means. Cause I'm, I'm out of my mind.