To the Festival with a Lad of Ten

Look up at the moon, boy
For I need some rest
This weary road has taken its toll on me

We'll be there soon, boy
I know this road best
We must walk the mud road out to sea

We'll arrive at noon, boy
In town there's a fest
I'll get you a top and a candied bee

And even a b'lloon, boy
Let's see if it stands your test
I wager you'll rub it until its air breaks free

You know you're a goon, boy?
You should still be at your mother's breast
So hold your tongue or leave me be