The clock strikes two and two again.
I eat a strawberry tart.
The clock strikes two and two again.
For she who has my heart.

They call me nuts, they call me mad.
I’ve buttered up the works.
I am a loon and quite mad.
But she understands my quirks.

Clean cup, clean cup. Move down, move down.
It’s my un-birthday too.
We’ll sing, we’ll cheer. All day, all year.
For time is all askew.

The clock strikes two and two again.
I eat a strawberry tart.
The clock strikes two and two again.
For she who has my heart