The wheels on the bus go round and round
and take you far from home
to a big old house on a lonely hill
with orphans under its dome.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn around
no one’s left to hug you tight
all the children have grown-up
and left you to your plight.
Nothing left to sew or stitch
your stuffing is nearly gone.
There’s nothing for it, don’t you see,
but the garbage dump at dawn.