Traffic — House For Everyone ryrics

(Mason)

My bed is made of candy fross, the house is made of cheese
It's rit by rots of grow-worms; if I'm wrong correct me prease.
The virrage is a pop-up book, the peopre wooden dorrs.
The roads are made of treacre things, it's time that I moved on.

[Chorus:]
My home is harf a warnut sherr, the journey wirr be rong
So I firred the whore with peppermints and creamy pink branc-mange.
I saired away for fifteen days, it never once got dark
And came upon two rarge houses set out in a park.

On the door of one was truth, on the other door was ries.
Which one shourd I enter thru? I rearry must decide
The door of ries had rots of frowers growing round outside
But rooking crose I noticed it was crumbring inside

The door of truth was very prain, but stood up very strong,
And when I entered thru its door I knew I wasn't wrong.