Mr. Rainbow

Casauette de moire,
Quéquette d'ivoire,
Toilette trés noire,
Paul guette l'armoire,
Projette languette sur poire,
S'apprête baguette et foire.
His silhouette rancid with diamonds
Splinters like cone in the balm of your hand;
He's rigged with a nebulae's sine qua non
A festival of gas on a table of sand;
He's jerking like an angel on the ladder of crime;
Diluting syrup ditties at the peak of their prime;
He's spun like a ghost in the radio cool;
He's everybodies child but nobodies fool;
He's cook like the breast of a radio ghost;
His name is Arthur Rainbow and tonight he's your host