You and I in a little toy shop buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got, set them free at the break of dawn 'till one by one, they were gone. Back at base, bugs in the software flash the message, "Something's out there." Floating in the summer sky, ninety-nine red balloons go by.
Ninety-nine red balloons floating in the summer sky. Panic bells, it's red alert. There's something here from somewhere else. The war machine, it springs to life, opens up one eager eye, focusing it on the sky as ninety-nine red balloons go by.
Ninety-nine Decision Street, ninety-nine ministers meet, to worry, worry, super-scurry. Call the troops now in a hurry, this is what we've waited for. This is it boys, this is war. The president is on the line as ninety-nine red balloons go by.
Ninety-nine war ministers, matches and gasoline canisters. They thought they were clever people, already smelled a nice bounty. Called for war and wanted power. Man, who would've thought that things would someday go so far because of ninety-nine balloons.
Ninety-nine dreams I have had, and every one, a red balloon. It's all over and I'm standing pretty in the dust that was a city. If I could find a souvenir just to prove the world was here, and here it is. A red balloon. I think of you, and let it go.
