Oh, hello Mr. Soul,
  I dropped by
  to pick up a reason
  For the thought that I caught
  that my head
  is the event of the season
  Why in crowds just a trace
  of my face
  could seem so pleasin'
  I'll cop out to the change,
  but a stranger
  is putting the tease on.
    I was down on a frown
  when the messenger
  brought me a letter
  I was raised by the praise
  of a fan
  who said I upset her
  Any girl in the world
  could have easily
  known me better
  She said, You're strange,
  but don't change,
  and I let her.
    In a while will the smile
  on my face
  turn to plaster?
  Stick around while the clown
  who is sick
  does the trick of disaster
  For the race of my head
  and my face
  is moving much faster
  Is it strange I should change?
  I don't know,
  why don't you ask her?