Fool School

Past where the grumbly mumblers rumble On either end of the night Out where the jumbly tumblers stumble And struggle to get it right They come in early and stay out late They drive to the edge of the town They meet in the warehouse on Orchard and Slate They study the art of the clown They're taxers and bakers and shooters and makers Professionals one and all But they want to be fakers and givers, not takers, So they're learning to take a fall Juggling, balloonery, precision loonery It's a no-nonsense school Dancing, buffoonery, sad-sacking goonery Purposefully playing the fool You're already skilled in self-humiliation You're already creepy and strange Perhaps you should train for a different vocation Maybe it's time for a change Hello, friends. How are you today?

Love.