Get Off of My Cloud

I live in an apartment on the ninety-ninth floor of my block,
And I sit at home looking out the window,
Imagining the world has stopped.
Then in comes a man all dressed up like a Union Jack
And says I’ve won five pounds if I have his kind of detergent pack.
I says: Hey! You! Get off of my cloud.
Don’t hang around 'cause two’s a crowd.
«On my cloud, baby.»
The telephone is ringing,
I say «Hi, it’s me, who is it on the line?»
A voice says «Hi, hello, how are you?»
Well, I guess I’m going fine.
He says «It's three A.M., there’s too much noise,
Don’t you people ever go to bed? Just 'cause you feel so good,
Do you have to drive me out of my head?»
I says: Hey! You! Get off of my cloud.
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud.
Don’t hang around 'cause two’s a crowd.
«On my cloud, baby.»
I was sick and tired, fed up with this,
And decided to take a drive down town.
It was so very quiet and peaceful, there was nobody not a soul around.
I laid myself out, I was so tired, and I started to dream.
In the morning the parking tickets were just like a flag stuck on my