Текст: Shawn Mullins. The First Ten Years. Drumming Clown.

As the lights go down the drumming clown
Whistled a melody and as the rain pours down
His happy face turned into a sad one
And autumn wind reminded him that the circus had come and gone
So he opened a pack of swisher sweets whistles down the first one

His clothes are ragged and his hat is dusty his drum is missing snares
He maybe laughin' and he may be cryin' no one knows nor cares
His belly's empty his heart is full he knows where he belongs
So he steps aboard that lovely train and he whistles his favorite song
He whistles his favorite song

And as he sleeps he dreams of all the pretty girls
He's seen throughout his life and though his dreams are sweet
His aching feet awake him in the night

He wakes to the sound of thunder and he thinks of a reason why
Then he hangs his head to cry then he drifted off to a deeper sleep
That no one could disturb and when he woke
He was at a place that was higher than the birds

He said my God I'm here at last is this meant to be
I've lived the life of a hobo clown whistle tunes for money
And Lord spoke up and said my friend you are not alone
Lived a good life my drumming clown and now you have a home
Now you have a home

And somewhere a stock boy opens a crate
And finds the butt of an old cigar
He hears a distant whistling then he gazes at the stars
He gazes at the stars