by Eric Clapton and Martin Sharp

Twice upon a time in the valley of the tears
An auctioneer is bidding for a box of fading years

And the elephants are dancing on the graves of squealing mice.
Anyone for tennis, wouldn´t that be nice?

And the ice creams are all melting on the streets of bloody beer
While the beggars stain the pavements with flourescent Christmas cheer
And the Bentley-driving guru is putting up his price.
Anyone for tennis, wouldn´t that be nice?

And the prophets in the boutiques give out messages of hope
With jingle bells and fairy tales and blind colliding scopes
And you can tell they´re all the same underneath the pretty lights,

Anyone for tennis, wouldn´t that be nice?

The yellow Buddhist monk is burning brightly at the zoo
You can bring a bowl of rice and then a glass of water too
And fate is setting up the chessboard while death rolls out the dice.
Anyone for tennis, wouldn´t that be nice?