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