In autumn he comes to this town
When the peoples guard is down
On a day like today
Overcast and gray

Bells were all ringing
The birds stopped their singing
The wind caught in the trees
Screamin' to be free

He alights from the platform
In his usual uniform
His skin looks like he slept in it
Or had somethin' rotten kept in it

And snakes stir in the thistles
Back of cats neck bristles
'Round vicious lips the fur is stained
The disillusionist is back again

They say that he's famous from the waist down
But the top half of his body is a corpse
His gold won't buy him sleep
His poverty runs so deep
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps

Hang around the backstage door
But he knows what you're waitin' for
You rub yourself against his fame
Already ready to bear the blame

He asks you, 'Did you like my show?'
As if he really wants to know
Then doesn't wait for your reply
He just pulls you back inside

You've started feelin' dizzy
It isn't you or is he?
Persuade you mentally
Undresses you incidentally

Down the swaying corridor
People you feel sorry for
But when he puts the gaze on you
You're amazed at what you'll let him do

They say that he's famous from the waist down
But the top half of his body is a corpse
His gold won't buy him sleep
His poverty runs so deep
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps

He can turn wine into water
Mother against daughter
Juggles busy deadlines
Gets himself off headlines

Surrounded by his minions
Who never have opinions
Performing little tricks for you
Puts it in a fix for you

Smashes your watch with a hammer
Caresses you with camera
And says the magic words
That nobody's ever heard

Now the slur is fading
Reality all pervadin'
It only makes you want him more
It only makes you fawn him more

They say that he's famous from the waist down
But the top half of his body is a corpse
His gold won't buy him sleep
His poverty runs so deep
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps

And he does the Indian rope trick
The one that makes you seasick
And he keeps on filling up your cup
But you keep on filling up

And some of it's done with mirrors
And some of it's done with scissors
And some of it's done with cables
And his hands under the table

It doesn't matter you want to believe
It doesn't matter if you have to leave
You won't escape his orbit
And the things that you must forfeit

And the audience seems familiar
Some of them in particular
Bet you they are his plants
When he plays the game of chance

He reads the minds of jilted girls
And the story really unfurls
Cast a fortune for the man in the suit
Who's suffering is very acute

There's a rabbit in his hat
But I thought I smelled a rat