I knew a fellow who stubbed his toe
And he screamed and he started to cry;
No one had ever stubbed his toe
Like this poor, unfortunate guy.
So what could he do?
I leave it to you---
He joined a group for those
Who had also stubbed their toes.

You and me
Are private people
And cherish all that privacy implies;
You and me
Are private people
And we resent it when someone pries.

Very, very
Public people
Will broadcast their most intimate affairs---
But even very
Public people
Will find that nobody really cares.

Whatever became of resilience
In times of storm clouds and rain?
Whatever happened to dignity
In an age where there's nothing sacred,
In an age where there's nothing profane?

You remain
A private person
In spite of all the troubles that you've had;
You and me
Are private people
In a world that's slowly going mad.
 
 
 

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