| I was walking up Sixth Avenue when balloon man came right up to me
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| He was round and fat and spherical with the biggest grin I’d ever seen
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| He bounced on up toward me but before we could be introduced
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| He blew up very suddenly, I guess his name was probably Bruce
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| And I laughed like I always do
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| And I cried like I cried for you
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| And balloon man blew up in my hand
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| He spattered me with tomatoes, hummus, chick peas
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| And some strips of skin
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| So I made a right on 44th and I washed my hands when I got in
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| And it rained like a slow divorce
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| And I wish I could ride a horse
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| And balloon man blew up in my hand
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| I was walking up Sixth Avenue when balloon man blew up in my face
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| There were loads of them on Bryant Park so I didn’t feel out of place
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| There must have been a plague of them on the TV when I came home late
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| They were guzzling marshmallows and they’re jumping off the Empire State
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| And I laughed like I always do
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| And I cried like I cried for you
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| And balloon man blew up in my hand
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| Balloon man blew up in my hand |