The teapot wore a velvet coat,
The clock forgot to tick,
A heavy sigh sailed in a boat,
Made out of frozen brick.

A melancholy turnip wept,
Because the sky turned blue,
While shadows in the kitchen crept
To steal a lonely shoe.

The happy moon is made of lead,
It tumbled down the stair,
And landed on a feather bed
That wasn’t really there.

A wooden bicycle stood still,
To watch the shadows rust,
While pockets on a lonely hill
Were filling up with dust.

The match is lost, the floor is glass,
The referee’s a crow,
We sit upon the upside grass
And watch the daisies grow