O THE Queen may keep her golden
 Crown and sceptre of command!
I would give them both twice over
 To be King of Babyland. 
Sure, it is a wondrous country
 Where the beanstalks grow apace,
And so very near the moon is
 You could almost stroke her face. 

And the dwellers in that country
 Hold in such esteem their King,
They believe that if he chooses
 He can do?just anything! 

And, although his regal stature
 May be only four-feet-ten,
Think him tallest, strongest, bravest,
 Noblest, wisest, best of men. 

Ah, how fondly I remember
 The good time serene and fair,
In the bygone years when I, too,
 Was a reigning monarch there! 

But my subjects they discrowned me
 When they?d older, colder, grown;
And they took away my sceptre,
 And upset my royal throne. 

Yet, although a King in Exile,
 Without subjects to command,
I am glad at heart to think I
 Once was King of Babyland.