Short people got – no reason,
short people got – no reason,
short people got – no reason to live.
They got – little hands,
little eyes,
they walk around telling great big lies,
they got – little noses,
and tiny little teeth,
they wear – platform shoes on their nasty little feet.
(Chorus)
Well, I- don’t want no short people,
don’t want no short people,
don’t want no short people ’round here!
…
Short people are just the same as you and I,
(A fool such as I!)
all men are brothers until the day they die.
(It’s a wonderful world!)
…
Short people got – nobody,
short people got – nobody,
short people got – nobody to love.
They got – little baby legs,
they stand so low,
you gotta – pick ‘em up just to say hello.
They got – little cars that go beep, beep, beep
they got – little voices goin’ peep, peep, peep.
They got – grubby little fingers,
and dirty little minds,
they’re gonna get you – every time.
(Chorus)
Well, I – don’t want no short people,
don’t want no short people,
don’t want no short people ’round here!
Iannis Xenakis, son av Clearchos Xenakis og Photini Pavlou, vart fødd inn i den greske diasporaen på byrjinga av 1920-talet. Han var eldst av tre brør. Syskena, Cosmas og Jason vart høvesvis kunstmålar og filosofiprofessor. Faren var direktør i eit Engelskeigd import/eksport-firma og mora var pianist og snakka flytande engelsk og fransk. Historia fortel at det var mora som stod for det fyrste fatale feilgrepet: ho gav Iannis ei fløyte og oppmoda/muntra han til å studere musikk. Derifrå gjekk det berre nedover.
Min gamle frende og svirebror 
