Out Of My Mind

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.

‘cos I’m out of my mind.

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 won’t be your concubine – I’m a puppet not a whore.
I just need this stage to be seen.
Will you be a friend of mine to remind me what is real?
Hold my heart and see that it bleeds.

‘cos I’m out of my mind