A banana peel awaits us all.
When we're down we start to crawl.
Except the clown.
The stalwart clown.
The clown refuses to stay down.
A custard pie into the face
Brings us nothing but disgrace.
But not buffoons.
Those happy goons.
They lick their lips in any case.
Life's a gag, at last we know.
We're part of some damn raree show.
Yet the clown,
The trusting clown,
Will play upon his piccolo.
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