The Cuckoo

[Verse 1]
Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty bird; she sings as she flies
She bringeth good tidings; she telleth no lies
She sucketh white flowers for to keep her voice clear
And the more she singeth "cuckoo" the summer draweth near

[Verse 2]
As I was a-walking and talking one day
I met my own true love as he came that way
Though the meeting was a pleasure, though the courting was a woe
For I found him false-hearted; he'd kiss me, and then he'd go

[Verse 3]
I wish I were a scholar and could handle the pen
I'd write to my lover and to all roving men
I would tell them of the grief and woe that attend all their lies
I would wish them have pity on the flower when it dies

[Instrumental Break]

[Verse 3]
I wish I were a scholar and could handle the pen
I'd write to my lover and to all roving men
I would tell them of the grief and woe that attend all their lies
I would wish them have pity on the flower when it dies

[Verse 2]
As I was a-walking and talking one day
I met my own true love as he came that way
Though the meeting was a pleasure, though the courting was a woe
For I found him false-hearted; he'd kiss me, and then he'd go

[Verse 1]
Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty bird; she sings as she flies
She bringeth good tidings; she telleth no lies
She sucketh white flowers for to keep her voice clear
And the more she singeth "cuckoo" the summer draweth near

[Outro]
And the more she singeth "cuckoo" the summer draweth near