Little Boy Blue

You can't write a novel from a briefcase
You can write a poem from a trench
You can dream a dream from A to B
But you can't catch a bus from a bench

You don't back a horse called Striding Snail
You don't name your boat Titanic II
So why when I see your happy smiling face
Do I always end up singing Little Blue

Little Blue, how do you do
Your smile looks like heaven
But your eyes hold a storm about to brew
Little Blue
How can a flower so pretty
Be so laden down with dew
Little Blue

How can a flower so beautiful
Be so laden down with dew
Little Blue