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.