The Silver House

There's a silver house in the lovely sky,
As round as a silver crown;
It takes two weeks to build it up,
And two to pull it down.
There's a man who lives in the silver house,
In a lonely sort of way;
But what his name is no one knows,
Or no one likes to say.

Yet when you go to bed to-night,
Just draw the window blind,
And peep out at the silver moon,
This lonely man to find.
But if his house is taken down,
And all the sky is bare,
Then go to bed, because, of course,
The poor man won't be there.

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