I live in an apartment on the ninety-ninth floor

of my block

And I sit at home looking out the window

Imagining the world has stopped

Then in flies a guy who's all dressed up

like a Union Jack

And says, I've won five pounds if I have his

kind of detergent pack



I say, Hey! You! Get off of my cloud

Hey! You! Get off of my cloud

Hey! You! Get off of my cloud

Don't hang around 'cause two's a crowd

On my cloud, baby



The telephone is ringing

I say,