Song of Roberta

When morning sun wakes you and me,
The little birds wake in the tree,
And little boats put out to sea.

When noontime comes, the sun is high,
We play together, you and I,
You'll take a siesta by and by.

And when the western sky is red,
The baby birds must go to bed,
And a little Roberta at home is fed.

And when at last the moon is bright,
Upon your pillow, soft and white,
Your sleepy head will rest all night.