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 еveryone's in love
And flowеrs pick themselves
Always in spring
And everyone's in love
And flowers pick themselves