Look at me
I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree
And though you say I’m clinging to a clown
I don’t understand
I get misty, holding his hand
Walk his way
And the tiny violins begin to play
Or it might be the sound of his bellow
That music I hear
I get misty the moment he’s near
You can say that he’s leading me on
And it’s just not some kind of a whim
Don’t you realize how hopelessly I’m lost
That’s why I’m following him
On my own
Would I wander through all this carnage alone
Never knowing my right foot from my left
Vulture from a dove
I get misty, and too much in love
I’m too misty, and too much in love
