(Chorus)
I like to rise when the sun she rises, early in the morning
And I like to hear them small birds singing,
Merrily upon their layland
And hurrah for the life of a country boy,
And to ramble in the new mowed hay.
In spring, we sow; at the harvest mow
And that is how the seasons round they go
But of all the times if choose I may
I'd be rambling through the new mowed hay.
(Chorus)
In summer when the days are hot
We sing, and we dance, and we drink a lot
We spend all night in sport and play
And go rambling in the new mown hay
(Chorus)
In autumn when the oak trees turn
We gather all the wood that's fit to burn
We cut and stash and stow away
And go rambling in the new mown hay
(Chorus)
In winter when the sky is gray
We hedge and ditch our times away,
But in summer when the sun shines gay,
We go ramblin' through the new mowed hay.
(Chorus)