The owls are flying; you'll hear them sighing
Through the trees and the curtains as they hurry on home.
With my feet on a limb and my eyes sad and lonely,
I ask who, who, who?

Who will talk to me? who will answer me?
Who knows why I say who, who, who?
Who knows the reason why I sing this lullaby?
Who, who, who?

I call to the sandman but he's awful busy.
His sack's almost empty and he's feeling dizzy.
He wants to go home to go to his bed.
I'm alone with my who, who, who.

I'll try to talk to the clock in the steeple,
But he's far too busy; he just talks to people.
Who knows the reason why? Who can tell me why?
Who, who, who?