Here he comes up the street
Don't he look great?
Oh, look out, don't touch him
He'll shatter and break
He's perfectly fitted
And totally committed
To a lifelong mistake
Whoo, isn't he great?
Ah, look at him shake
The man behind the red balloon

He wears a Batman cape
And pretends he's a spy
Throw darts at his brain
And pierce his disguise
His fragile ideals
He thinks are concealed
But he's completely exposed
Like a man without clothes
He's a walkin' sideshow
The man behind the red balloon

At night he flies home
Locks himself in his room
Oh, and broadcasts his thoughts
Into a wooden broom
A golden disk
Scotch-taped to his lips
Feed back words to his ego
While in a manhole, he slips

Oh, his symbol of power
Is a little black case
He may forget his tie
Ah, but never his face
He's got life down pat
Ooh, he's sure of that
As he closes his eyes
And says with a sigh
"Ah, don't things look fine
For the man behind the red balloon"