Every midnight, on the hour Clarence Michael takes his shower, Lies between his cotton sheets, Plays his cards and cries and eats. Every morning in his bed He make believes his fish are dead. Clarence sends them down to rest He flushes twice, he then gets dressed. He wears a suit two sizes small He paints the rest; he paints it all. His skin is grey, it makes him think If now his mind is on the brink. He walks to work eleven miles As he arrives, he greets and smiles. All his peers just shake their skulls And flock to home like hurried gulls. Clarence stays 'til half past ten. He catches the bus back home again. He eats his breakfast, says it's early, Cuts his hair to make it curly. All the while he can't decide Where tonight he's going to hide When all the men in suits do come And make him just like everyone.