Your multilingual business friend 
Has packed her bags and fled 
Leaving only ash-filled ashtrays 
And the lipsticked unmade bed 
The mirror on reflection 
Has climbed back upon the wall 
For the floor she found descended 
And the ceiling was too tall 

Your trouser cuffs are dirty 
And your shoes are laced up wrong 
You'd better take off your homburg 
'cos your overcoat is too long 
The town clock in the market square 
Stands waiting for the hour 
When it's hands they both turn backwards 
And on meeting will devour 
Both themselves and also any fool 
Who dares to tell the time 
And the sun and moon will shatter 
And the signposts cease to sign