|
And I will stroll the merry way |
|
And jump the hedges first |
|
And I will drink the clear |
|
Clean water for to quench my thirst |
|
And I shall watch the ferry-boats |
|
And they'll get high |
|
On a bluer ocean |
|
Against tomorrow's sky |
|
And I will never grow so old again |
|
And I will walk and talk |
|
In gardens all wet with rain |
|
Oh sweet thing, sweet thing |
|
My, my, my, my, my sweet thing |
|
And I shall drive my chariot |
|
Down your streets and cry |
|
'Hey, it's me, I'm dynamite |
|
And I don't know why' |
|
And you shall take me strongly |
|
In your arms again |
|
And I will not remember |
|
That I even felt the pain. |
|
We shall walk and talk |
|
In gardens all misty and wet with rain |
|
And I will never, never, never |
|
Grow so old again. |
|
Oh sweet thing, sweet thing |
|
My, my, my, my, my sweet thing |
|
And I will raise my hand up |
|
Into the night time sky |
|
And count the stars |
|
That's shining in your eye |
|
Just to dig it all an' not to wonder |
|
That's just fine |
|
And I'll be satisfied |
|
Not to read in between the lines |
|
And I will walk and talk |
|
In gardens all wet with rain |
|
And I will never, ever, ever, ever |
|
Grow so old again. |
|
Oh sweet thing, sweet thing |
|
Sugar-baby with your champagne eyes |
|
And your saint-like smile.... |
