In autumn he comes to this town
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When the peoples guard is down
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On a day like today
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Overcast and gray
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Bells were all ringing
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The birds stopped their singing
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The wind caught in the trees
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Screaming to be free
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He alights from the platform
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In his usual uniform
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His skin looks like he slept in it
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Or had something rotten kept in it
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And snakes stir in the thistles
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Back of cats neck bristles
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'Round vicious lips the fur is stained
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The disillusionist is back again
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They say that he's famous from the waist down
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But the top half of his body is a corpse
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His gold won't buy him sleep
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His poverty runs so deep
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In winter he cracks, in summer he warps
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Hang around the backstage door
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But he knows what you're waiting for
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You rub yourself against his fame
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Already ready to bear the blame
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He asks you "Did you like my show?"
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As if he really wants to know
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Then doesn't wait for your reply
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He just pulls you back inside
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You've started feeling dizzy
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It isn't you or is he
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Persuade you mentally
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Undress you incidentally
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Down the swaying corridor
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People you feel sorry for
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But when he puts the gaze on you
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You're amazed at what you'll let him do
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He can turn wine into water
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Mother against daughter
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Juggles busy deadlines
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Gets himself off headlines
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Surrounded by his minions
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Who never have opinions
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Performing little tricks for you
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Puts it in a fix for you
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Smashes your watch with a hammer
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Caresses you with camera
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And says the magic words
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That nobody's ever heard
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Now the slur is fading
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Reality all-pervading
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It only makes you want him more
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It only makes you VULNERABLE
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And he does the Indian rope trick
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The one that makes you seasick
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And he keeps on filling up your cup
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But you keep on filling up
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And some of it's done with mirrors
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And some of it's done with scissors
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And some of it's done with cables
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And his hands under the table
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It doesn't matter you want to believe
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It doesn't matter if you have to leave
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You won't escape his orbit
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And the things that you must forfeit
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And the audience seems familiar
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Some of them in particular
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Bet you they are his plants
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When he plays the game of chance
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He reads the minds of jilted girls
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And the story really unfurls
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Cast a fortune for the man in the suit
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Who's suffering is very acute
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There's a rabbit in his hat
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But I thought I smelled a rat
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-----------------
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The Disillusionist
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The Church |