When I was young, I set my heart upon a red balloon.
I knew of nothing that was nicer than a red balloon.
I tried to hold tightly to the string,
But still I saw it fly away
Now I am grown, and find my heart is in another's hands,
And all the love I had to give is in his care.
Can our love stay alive until another Spring?
Will he hold the string, or let it go
Too soon, too soon, like a red balloon?
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