Here he smiles and there's such joy again!
Blue balloons and red; faces at the windowpane.
Now a green one, then a brown;
With his orange hair, why, he's a clown!

Sunrise yellows, pinks and purple;
Vivid colors attract little people
Each summer day without rain;
Every summer in the lane.

Footsteps follow him through marigold
As they did in the days of old.
"The Balloon Man is come! The Balloon Man!" all cry,
When sun greets a morning sky.

And return with many merry balloons,
And memories of golden afternoons;
As the clock ticks off happy hours
So gay, like little flowers.

The Balloon Man of sunrise days,
Is happiest when a child plays.
Such a red nose, why, he's a clown!
Much laughter 'til the lights go down.