Saw a face in a conical of lace, it was a strange orchestra
Mannequin skin pounding on a ba**-drum, strange orchestra
Lilliputian, evil in the eyes of the man with the leaf harp
He lusts for the urchin hiding under mountains of moleskin
A big cat like t-tyrannosaurus going to Lilliput
The ensemble make a tiny rumble, the celloist solos
The sky blackens and the ba** string slackens and they stand statuesquely
Then they giggle and they wiggle through the door in the big dark oak tree