A little girl stands lost within br The crowded market place, br She clutches to the piece of string br Tied to her red balloon. br br She ran away from home that morn br Now lost and all alone, br The tears run down her rosy cheeks br She has nowhere to go. br br Her coat is holed her skirt is torn br Her laces are untied, br Her blouse is stained and dirty br For she dwelt in poverty. br br And beaten every day she lived br She could not take no more, br Her mother drank her life away br Her father was unknown. br br So now her precious red balloon br Is all she has in life, br That the rag and bone man gave her br For her sodden handkerchief. br br Amidst the noise and bustle br Of the town that does not care, br She tries to steal an apple br But the trader slaps her hand. br br She bows her head and walks along br Still hungry and forlorn, br Yet no one stops to help her br And continue on their way. br br Surrounded by the mass of legs br And laden shopping bags, br She's pushed and jostled back and forth br As if an old rag doll. br br She's knocked down to the pavement br And lets go of her balloon, br Then watches as it drifts unto br The clouds high up above. br br It's carried on the winter wind br And soon blows out of sight, br And with it goes her hopes and dreams br Of happy childhood days.