Dorothy Carter - The Cuckoo текст песни

the cuckoo she's a pretty bird she singeth as she flies
she brings us glad tidings she tells us no lies
she sucks on small white flowers to make her sweet voice clear
and the more she crieth cuckoo the summer draweth near
i wish i were a scholar and could handle the pen
i'd write to all lovers and to all wondering men
i'd tell them of the cares and woes that descend upon our lives
and i'd tell them to have pity on the flower when it dies