— Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he.
So he called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.

The clock, tick-tock
On the mantelpiece;
And I want,
And I feel,
And I know,
And I touch
The wall! —

— You stand there with your fixed expression,
Casting doubt on all I have to say.
Why don't you touch me, touch me?
Why don't you touch me, touch me?
Touch me now, now, now, now, now!

Now, now, now, now, now! —