In the red house lives the red lady; she dances by herself in her red gown, the husband is out of town.
In the blue house lives the short lady; juggling routines, chasing life. She’s got the blues.
The other house isn’t green, concealed amidst the trees; There are flowers and bees but the lady, where is she?
I close my eyes, need not open to see; The skies change colours, those colours are my dreams.
“Where is the purple house lady?” Asked the lady in yellow, “I see her in your eyes, you jolly old fellow.”