THE MAN WHO BOUGHT A CLOUD

THE MAN WHO BOUGHT A CLOUD

A fellow bought a little cloud,
He found it at a fair,
The bloke who sold it told him,
Just keep it in the air.

He tied it to his chimney,
With Granny’s washing line,
He stood below and proudly said,
That little cloud is mine.

It rained into his bedroom,
And soaked his Sunday clothes,
Then thunder shook the windows,
And lightning singed his nose.

His neighbour came complaining,
Your cloud has drowned my cat,
The fellow looked towards the sky,
And couldn’t answer that.

He tried to sell the bugger,
But nobody would buy,
Who wants a cloud that follows you,
And wees out of the sky.

He packed it in a suitcase,
And took it on a train,
But halfway down to London,
The carriage filled with rain.

The guard said take it with you,
You’re making people wet,
The fellow said I’m sorry,
It’s worse when it’s upset.

He finally set it free again,
One windy afternoon,
It floated off above his house,
And pissed upon the moon.