Tied together good and strong. And paste it along the edge to stay. Well, here's my kite all ready to go. When the wind blows the quiet things speak. Some whisper, some clang, some creak.
Flags slap and snap in the sky.
Wires on poles whistle and hum. Ash cans roll. When the wind goes - suddenly then, the quiet things are quiet again. I whistle all the livelong day. He is blowing, for he's knowing That the snowing will be going, And he's cutting capers Like a circus clown.