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certainly the children have seen them
in quiet places where the moss grows green
coloured shells, jangle together
the wind is cold, the year is old
the trees whisper together, and bend in the wind they leave...


oh next week a monkey is coming to stay...

If i were a witches hat,
sitting on her head like a parrafin stove
I'd fly away and be a bat
across the air i would rome

stepping like a tightrope walker
putting one foot after another
wearing black cherries for rings
certainly the children have seen them   in quiet places where the moss grows green   coloured shells, jangle together   the wind is cold, the year is old   the trees whisper together, and bend in the wind they leave...         oh next week a monkey is coming to stay...      If i were a witches hat,   sitting on her head like a parrafin stove   I'd fly away and be a bat   across the air i would rome      stepping like a tightrope walker   putting one foot after another   wearing black cherries for rings