This is the ball that started it all.
This is the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the parrot they call McCall
Who was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the feathered, right-sided wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the vase, a fragile, glass thing
That was hit by the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the Mother who jumped from her swing
When she heard the crash of the fragile, glass thing
That was hit by the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the tea, that was brought on a cart
And splashed as the Mother jumped from her swing
When she heard the crash of the fragile, glass thing
That was hit by the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the lady who clutched at her heart
When her dress got wet from the tea on the cart
That splashed as the Mother jumped from her swing
When she heard the crash of the fragile, glass thing
That was hit by the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the sister who did her own part
By patting the lady who clutched at her heart
When her dress got wet from the tea on the cart
That splashed as the Mother jumped from her swing
When she heard the crash of the fragile, glass thing
That was hit by the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
This is the Father, older and smart
Who stared at the sister doing her part
By patting the lady who clutched at her heart
When her dress got wet from the tea on the cart
That splashed as the Mother jumped from her swing
When she heard the crash of the fragile, glass thing
That was hit by the bell that made a soft ding
As it fell from the shelf, being hit by the wing
That flapped as the parrot they call McCall
Was scared by the cat with her bed in the hall
Who ran from the baby, sweet and small
Who hit the ball that started it all.
The father stands staring, his hands in his hair
When he sees a ball roll, kind of slow, down the stair
And he thinks to himself that a ball on the stair
Could cause a commotion if left to stay there
"Why, one could get hurt, one might even fall"
So he walked and bent over and picked up the ball
And placed it back safe, by the cat in the hall.
