Such gallery rockers those!
They'll turn you on your head;
The straight chairs on your nose,—
They'll land you there instead.
They'll turn you on your head;
The straight chairs on your nose,—
They'll land you there instead.
Oh, they are milk-white steed,
With golden bridle reins.
The other chairs we need
To ride upon the train
That crosses Silver Bridge,
Spanned o'er the River Gold.
We're going to the ridge
Of Fairy Land of old.
That's what the children say.
With golden bridle reins.
The other chairs we need
To ride upon the train
That crosses Silver Bridge,
Spanned o'er the River Gold.
We're going to the ridge
Of Fairy Land of old.
That's what the children say.
I never saw a place!
Such broken glass and tin!
I hate to show my face
On outside or within.
Such broken glass and tin!
I hate to show my face
On outside or within.
Why, we have diamonds here,—
Rubies! opals! sapphires!
With gold and silver dear,
Flashing with lights and fires.
We serve you cakes and pies;
They are not made of dirt;
They're thick, and of great size;
They're custard; 'twill not hurt.
That's what the children say.
Rubies! opals! sapphires!
With gold and silver dear,
Flashing with lights and fires.
We serve you cakes and pies;
They are not made of dirt;
They're thick, and of great size;
They're custard; 'twill not hurt.
That's what the children say.
[110]
