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Oh an idea!
What an idea it is...
An image every Englishman has mastered,
With every tweed coat
He drinks his tea...
What could break his idea,
His image?
This illusion!
Oh yes, tis an illusion...
An act every lady learns to manipulate,
With each skirt
She seduces a man...
What could crack her illusion,
Her act?
What a thought!
Only a thought...
Maybe a wish of the homeless man,
As he wanders down the street
Tattered clothes and all...
But this man is just a mirage
For he is indeed,
The civilized one.

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