People’s Imperial Army of Clowns

The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Exactly as silly as it sounds
The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Commanding you to surrender your frown

We run under the cover of commerce
And we’re coming for the rich
It’s a mission of earn and disburse
It’s your classic bait-and-switch

We’ve got exotic concoctions
All-in-one remedies
Flagons of powerful potions
To mix up how you see

We stock every luxury
Of which you’ve never heard
Relics of long-lost dynasties
And guaranteed enchanted words

Elaborate arabesque mandalas
Piled crates of lucky charms
Enough powdered horns of dilemma
To fill ten thousand arms

Yes, there’s a savvy vendor
Catering to any possible vice
And, man, if you’re a big spender
It’s yours at twice the price

The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Exactly as silly as it sounds
The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Commanding you to surrender your frown

So, all you weirdos, freaks, and geeks
Outlaws playing hide and seek
Ye crushed orchids who fear to speak
And anyone else with a wild streak

We’re calling all agents of aberration
Committed to total global deviation
Time to leap from the flying pan
And grab a spot in the spice caravan

Scruffy ruffians and rabble, rouse!
All round pegs the square disavows
Oh ye of lofty and earthy brows
With a little more wit than the law allows

Acrobatic adepts and mystic mavens
Carnival crews and gypsy ravens
Restless jesters juggling connotation
Grab your weapons of fascination

And join the People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Exactly as silly as it sounds
The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Commanding you to surrender your frown

Oh fools, come and claim your crowns!
All you movers and shakers of sound
Denizens of the underground
In for a penny and down for a pound

Bards and bandits and spray-paint scribes
Bridge dwellers and roving tribes
Travelers who never appear to arrive
Just trying to keep the trip alive

Silk merchants and shuffling magi
On dervish-laden bandwagons
Sitting on endless supply of stimuli
Too enticing to abandon

Over here is a sightless seer
Clad in invisible robes
If you come near he’ll bend your ear
And twist your frontal lobe

There’s an embarrassment of riches
Temples packed with treasures
Oh, far too big for our britches
But who’s got the time to measure?

We’re led by General Confusion
And the Central Comedy Corps
It’s a Marx-ist Revolution
Grass-roots and on the ground floor

The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Exactly as silly as it sounds
The People’s Imperial Army of Clowns
Commanding you to surrender your frown