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 laylums And hurrah for the life of a country boy, And to ramble in the new mowed hay. verse 1 In spring we sow at the harvest mow And that is how the seasons round they go but of all the times choose I may I'd be rambling through the new mowed hay. For 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 laylums And hurrah for the life of a country boy, And to ramble in the new mowed hay. verse 2 In winter when the sky's gray we hedge and ditch our times away, but in summer when the sun shines gay, We'd go ramblin' through the new mowed hay. For 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 laylums And hurrah for the life of a country boy, And to ramble in the new mowed hay.
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