UP IN THE BELFRY.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong!
Little girls up in the belfry so high,
Think they have climbed to the edge of the sky.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong!
People below look like flies they’re so small;
Laura’s so short she can’t see them at all.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong!
Fleecy white clouds o’er their heads, see them float!
Oh, if the girls could have one for a boat!
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong!
Floating through cloud-land how happy they’d be!
Wonderful things in the heavens they’d see!
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong!
Rain-bows and sun-beams, the hail, and the snow,
All these the secret of making they’d know.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong!
Tree-tops and clouds they must now leave to go
Down to the earth and the people below.