You know a lot of things, my friend
And others know them too
Like how to turn the TV off
And how to use the loo
You know that pasta's floppy
And that urchins have sharp spines
But here's one thing you've never known:
The clouds can read our minds.
They're up there in the sky all day
With nothing much to do
And so to pass the time they watch
The thoughts of me and you
Of course when they're not doing that
They think thoughts of their own
Some are sad, and some are glad
And one was named Jerome.
Jerome was not a happy cloud
In fact, he cried a lot
"I'm fat and gross and dumb," he'd think
"I might as well just rot."
"I haven't got a single friend
I'm lonely as can be
And surely there is no one else
Who feels the same as me."
He didn't often read our minds
"There's just no point," he'd sigh
But one day, merely on a whim
He thought that he would try.
He picked a tall and handsome man
Whose name was Fred P. Frinks
"I bet his life is great," he said
"I wonder what he thinks."
Fred Frinks was walking home from work
And this is what he thought:
"I'm fat and gross and awful dumb
I might as well just rot.
I haven't got a single friend
I'm lonely as can be
And surely there is no one else
Who feels the same as me."
Jerome was shocked; he gasped aloud
"I never would have guessed!
This man's down in the dumps, and yet
He's wealthy and well-dressed!"
And then Jerome felt something new
Which we call empathy
"I know just how he feels," he thought
"He's just the same as me!"
"Poor Fred should know he's not alone.
I'll help him out," he said.
"I cannot speak to humans
So I'll give a hug instead."
And so he spread his wispy arms
And floated down to earth
And gave Fred Frinks the biggest hug
He'd ever had since birth
Jerome thought, "That'll cheer him up!"
But Fred began to sob
"There's nothing worse," he moaned
"Than when a clear day turns to fog."
