Ramble In The New Mown Hays

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In spring we sow the harvest mow,
And that is how the seasons round they go,
But of all the seasons chose I may,
It's to ramble in the new mown hay.
Chorus:
For I like to rise when the sun she rises,
Early in the morning,
I like to hear the small birds singing,
Merrily upon the leylan,
And hurrah for the life of a country boy,
And to ramble in the new mown hay.

2. In winter when the skies are grey,
We hedge and we ditch our time away,
In summer when the sun shines gay,
We go rambling in the new mown hay.
Chorus:

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