One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery.
And paint you a picture of the queen.
And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree
it's just the nonsense that it seems.
So I drift down through the Baker Street valley,
in my steep-sided un-reality.
And when all is said and all is done I couldn't wish
for a better one.
It's a real-life ripe dead certainty
that I'm just a Baker Street Muse.