He stands, comforting over me, beside my bed. Losing his head, tells me, I must take him seriously. He's rolling on the usual way, he's such a clever guy. Then I wonder, should I let him ride? He's resting in the striped pajamas that I bought, trousers too short. You see, me and him, are we small, we're not so big. There is no other way for us, and we are against all time. Then I wonder, should I let him ride? High and mighty, he's fair and kind, a good-spirited design. Standing there on his toes, to roam inside. All I see is the big balloon, halfway up to the moon. He's wrapped up in the warm and sacred bloom, of an eternal life. So should I let him ride? Strange, how things feel different, I have grown, cold as a stone. No more pain, where there was pain before. Far away he rams on, I feel my throat go dry. Then I wonder, should I let him ride? High and mighty, he's fair and kind, a good-spirited design. Standing there on his toes, to roam inside. All I see is the big balloon, halfway up to the moon. He's wrapped up in the warm and sacred bloom, of an eternal life. So should I let him ride? Thank you for watching!