Everyday, we see him at..
The same old spot downtown
With flannel shirt and old tophat
And frown, that bends far down

Everyone just passes him
And just ignores his gimmick
He lifts the finger up at them
For he's an angry mimic

He reeks of must and alcohol
And just a tad, bolonga
Of smoke and feces, most of all
Even his show's baloney

He tries to mimic out an act
But he is very drunk
He tips a bit, then stumbles back
And ends up in a funk

He wabbles clumsily on his toes
Just like a ballerina...?
Then falling forth, he breaks his nose
They laugh, like crazed hyenas

Pretends he's climbing up a wall
Then strikes a couple a' poses
The passing few, who briefly stall
Just cover up their noses

Children throw pebbles his way
Old people shake their heads
Above his own, the clouds turn gray
With dark approaching dread

His hat spins like a bottle top
His makeup drips and drops
Steam from his ears, blows piping hot
His arms tie in a knot

He slams his hat down on the ground
And stomps on it in anger
He spits on people passing round
And coils up like a hanger

He takes in shots of alcohol
Then carries up a torch
Into the flame, he spits it all
Causing a giant scorch

Then climbs atop a taxi cab
Just rambling like a loon
Throwing round a spinning jab
Then gives the crowd the moon

An officer runs up the hood
And spears him to the turf
Cut down just like a piece of wood
And flattened like a smurf

Handcuffed and taken off to jail
The mime, frowns deep in sorrow
With mind and soul both in an ail
But, he'll be back out tomorrow