A Man of Clay

This poor soul has looked till his eyes stand outAnd listened till his ears are immense;And though his mouth has grown large from talking much,He says never a word of sense.For his brain is so muddled, he never can think,Whate’er he may see, hear, or say,He was not made to understand,He is only a man of clay.

This poor soul has looked till his eyes stand outAnd listened till his ears are immense;And though his mouth has grown large from talking much,He says never a word of sense.For his brain is so muddled, he never can think,Whate’er he may see, hear, or say,He was not made to understand,He is only a man of clay.

This poor soul has looked till his eyes stand outAnd listened till his ears are immense;And though his mouth has grown large from talking much,He says never a word of sense.

This poor soul has looked till his eyes stand out

And listened till his ears are immense;

And though his mouth has grown large from talking much,

He says never a word of sense.

For his brain is so muddled, he never can think,Whate’er he may see, hear, or say,He was not made to understand,He is only a man of clay.

For his brain is so muddled, he never can think,

Whate’er he may see, hear, or say,

He was not made to understand,

He is only a man of clay.


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