Please trip them gently, they don’t like to fall Oh, by Jingo There’s no room for anger, we’re all very small Oh, by Jingo
We’re painting our faces And dressing in thoughts from the skies, from paradise They think that we’re holding a secretive ball Won’t someone invite them They’re just taller children That’s all, after all
Man is an obstacle, sad as the clown Oh, by Jingo So hold on to nothing, he won’t let you down Oh, by Jingo
Some people are marching together And some on their own, quite alone Others are running, the smaller ones crawl But some sit in silence They’re just older children That’s all, after all
I sing with impertinence Shading impermanent chords with my words I’ve borrowed your time I’m sorry I called The thought just occurred that we’re nobody’s children After all, after all
Live till your rebirth, and do what you will Oh, by Jingo Forget all I’ve said, please bear me no ill Oh, by Jingo