The Land Of Nowhere
Do you know where the summer blooms all the year 'round,
Where there never is rain on a pic-nic day?
Where the thornless rose in its beauty blows
And little boys never are called from play?
Then, oh! hey! it is far away—
In the wonderful land of Nowhere.
Would you like to live where nobody scolds,
Where you never are told "it is time for bed,"
Where you learn without trying and laugh without crying,
Where snarls never pull when they comb your head?
Then, oh! hey! it is far away
In the wonderful land of Nowhere.
Do you long to dwell where you never need wait,
Where no one is punished or made to cry,
Where a supper of cakes is not followed by aches
And little folks thrive on a diet of pie?
Then, oh! hey! you must go away
To the wonderful land of Nowhere.
You must drift down the river of idle dreams,
Close to the border of No-man's-land.
For a year and a day you must sail away
And then you will come to an unknown strand
And oh! hey! if you get there—stay
In the wonderful land of Nowhere!
