The carnival God
His pipe organ shines
The spotlight is glowing
He caresses out lines

His legions of clowns
His high stepping bears
His high wire artists
His well vended wears

With hands like fat spiders
And feet willy hay!
His thin limbs are flying
Like horseflies in may

His twisted limbs dancing
His twisted hands thwacking
Out broken glass music
The metronomes whacking

His milky fangs grinning
His pearly white eyes
The gold jacket jingling
The audience sighs

The people are breathless
Worshipping him
Despite the cheap grandeur
He's magic to them