Who Knows if the Moon's a Balloon

Always in spring
And everyone’s in love
And flowers pick themselves
Who knows if
The moon’s a balloon
In the sky
Filled with pretty people
Who’d if you
And I should get into it
If they should take me
And take you into their balloon
Always in spring
And everyone’s in love
And flowers pick themselves
Why, then, we go up
Lie with all the pretty people
Then houses and steeples and clouds go sailing
Away and away
Blew away into our keen city
Which nobody’s ever visited
Always in spring
And veryone’s in love
And flowrs pick themselves