Little Skylark (The Worsted Wood)

Go to sleep, Little Skylark
Fly up to the moon
In your biplane of paper and ink
Your wings creak and croon
Borne aloft by balloons
And your engine is singing for you
Go to sleep, Little Skylark, do
Oh, go to sleep, Little Skylark
Fly up past the stars
In your biplane of sunshine and ice
Past comets and cars
Past Neptune and Mars
Still your engine is singing for you
Go to sleep, Little Skylark, do
Go to sleep, Little Skylark
Drift down through the night
In your biplane of silver and sighs
Slip under the light
Come down from the heights
For your mother is singing for you
Go to sleep, Little Skylark, do
For your mother is singing for you
Go to sleep, Little Skylark, do