The monster eat my socks no more.

Whirling and spinning,

Singing and ringing,

Often moving a bit of the carpet ring.
The monster eat my socks no more. 

The world has been set back up-right,

Or maybe it is back up-side-down,
I don't have a care no more.
The monster spit my each sock out.
Not alone, in wait for another-one.
But together with their rightful-pair.

And I would happily skip around,
For this time I would truly dare.
The monster eat my socks no more.