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
I'll cop out to the change, but a stranger is putting the tease on.
Why in crowds just a trace of my face could seem so pleasin'
I was raised by the praise of a fan who said I upset her
In a while will the smile on my face turn to plaster?
I was down on a frown when the messenger brought me a letter
Any girl in the world could have easily known me better
She said, You're strange, but don't change, and I let her
Is it strange I should change? I don't know, why don't you ask her For the race of my head and my face is moving much faster
Stick around while the clown who is sick does the trick of disaster