The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces He met the gazes observed the spaces in between the old men's cackle He brewed a song of love and hatred oblique suggestions and he waited He polarized the pumpkin-eaters static-humming panel-beaters The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run And threw away his looking-glass saw his face in everyone He titillated men-of-action belly warming hands still rubbing on the parts they never mention He pacified the nappy-suffering <♪> He pacified the nappy-suffering infant-bleating one-line jokers T.V documentary makers (overfed and undertakers) Sunday paper backgammon players family-scarred and women-haters Then he called the band down to the stage and he looked at all the friends he'd made The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run And threw away his looking-glass saw his face in everyone The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces He met the gazes The minstrel in the gallery