Dear Mr. Good I'm writing to tell you about my child
He's in the fifth grade and very dangerous
He thinks he's smarter than you and I and everybody else
So play him as a Maestro would play a cheap violin
Let him think he's the ringleader
Then in mid-circus pull the rug out from under him
My fear is that he's nearing the third rail
He's kneeling to another angry idol
And I can see it as his face is getting pale
That he's on his way out of this world
This sudden spat of insanity - needs a good fat dose of humility
Otherwise a dictator will arise in class and rule by fear
So before he gets too old to know what we're doing right now
Before he gets too old to turn a deaf ear - turn it back my way
My fear is that he's nearing the third rail
He's kneeling to another angry idol
And I can see it as his face is getting pale
He's getting nowhere on no one's referrals
Getting nowhere on no one's referrals
He's on his way out of this world
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