The Top and the Ball - Stephin Merritt

I was made, so they say

In the burgomaster’s shop

By whom else but the mayor

I’m one important top

Do I know you?

she said

For I do not speak with all

I’ve got cork in my head

I am one beautiful ball!

Can’t we be sweethearts?

No, I don’t think so

Shan’t we be sweethearts?

No

There are reasons why we

Will not tootle together

You were made from some tree

Me of african leather

And besides, there’s a swallow

Who always says, «I will!»

There’s a promise, or almost

And your chances are nil

We can’t be sweethearts

About that swallow…

We shan’t be sweethearts

Oh

Soon the ball disappears

She just bounced off somewhere

Then the top, after years

Spins away into thin air

When they meet in the gutter

She’s droopy, old, and wet

Though her heart’s all aflutter

He’s sure they haven’t met

Were we old sweethearts?

No, I don’t think so

Sure we weren’t sweethearts?

No!

In the garbage, old friends

Look even older

In the garbage, even old friends

Get the cold shoulder

Can’t we be sweethearts?