Oh, hello Mr. Soul,

I dropped by

to pick up a reason

For the thought that I caught

that my head

is the event of the season

Why in crowds just a trace

of my face

could seem so pleasin'

I'll cop out to the change,

but a stranger

is putting the tease on.



I was down on a frown

when the messenger

brought me a letter

I was raised by the praise

of a fan

who said I upset her

Any girl in the world

could have easily

known me better

She said, You're strange,

but don't change,

and I let her.



In a while will the smile

on my face

turn to plaster?

Stick around while the clown

who is sick

does the trick of disaster

For the race of my head

and my face

is moving much faster

Is it strange I should change?

I don't know,

why don't you ask her?