| I was walking barefoot on St. Paul’s bridge
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| When I saw a man talking to God
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| He was round and handsome
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| Anachronistically
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| A little odd
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| I overheard his conversation
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| He said, «I can’t live in a world devoid of love.»
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| And the voice, the voice was so familiar
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| It was the voice of Peter Ustinov
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| «Peter,» I whispered from the shadows
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| «We've all been damaged by the 20th century
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| A man like you can talk to God
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| But can you spare a word for me?
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| For I have loved you since the time
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| I saw you in 'The Mouse that Roared'.»
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| «That was Peter Sellers, my dear
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| Go away,» he implored
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| «See, I used to be Ustinov
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| But used to’s no good enough for me
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| See, I used to be Ustinov
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| But used to’s not good enough for me.»
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| The I blurted out «Quo Vadis»
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| «Topkapi,» ooh yeah «Evil Under The Sun.»
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| He waved his hand, «It's too late for that
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| As you said, the damage has been done.»
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| Then he lifted his body up
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| To throw himself to a watery grave
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| «Peter,» I yelled
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| «What about 'Billy Budd'
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| The innocent no one could save?»
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| (Repeat chorus)
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| «So tell me what you’re dying for
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| Have you been so disrespected?»
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| He winked at me and said, «'Billy Budd.'
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| I wrote, starred, and directed.»
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| Then he bowed and kissed my hand
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| And said, «What was I thinking of?»
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| And walked away into the night
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| The night I saved Peter Ustinov
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| «You used to be Ustinov
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| But used to’s still good enough for me
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| You used to be Ustinov
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| But used to’s still good enough for me.» |