I like to rise when the sun she rises
Early in the morning
I like to hear them small birds singing
Merrily upon the laylum
And hurrah for the life of a country boy
And to ramble in the new-mown hay
In spring we sow at the harvest mow
And that is how the seasons round they go
But if all the times if choose I may
't would be rambling through the new-mown hay
In winter when the sky is grey
We hedge and ditch our times away
But in the summer when the sun shines gay
We go rambling through the new-mown hay
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