It’s thirty below,
And I’m out in the snow,
And my nose is beginning to run.
I thought I would try
To build stairs to the sky,
But I’m really not having much fun!
I packed snow and ice,
And I smushed them down twice,
Then I piled up some more snow on top.
But every time I
Get a couple stairs high,
All the middles squish out with a plop!
If only I could,
I would build them up good,
Then go jumping around in the clouds.
Then I’d gather the stars
And I’d keep them in jars,
And I’d dazzle the gathering crowds.
But the snow just won’t stick.
Though it’s fluffy and thick,
It just melts in a mushy old mound.
Aw, who needs the sky?
It’s too blue and to high!
I’ll just build me some stairs to the ground!