When the Sun She Rises

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Morris & Rivers

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Spring will cast off winter clothes
We fly to the fields and the ramblin' rose
Mud to the grass to the buckwheat bloom
And the open window of your room

I like to rise when the sun she rises
Early in the morning
I like to hear the small bird singing
Merrily upon the lay land
Hurrah for the life of a country love
And to ramble in the new mown hay

Sounding the summer hear the roar
Of the sun and the sting and the swelter chore
In the day we sip from the deepest well
In the night we chug from the jugs of hell

I like to rise when the sun she rises
Early in the morning
I like to hear the small bird singing
Merrily upon the lay land
Hurrah for the life of a country love
And to ramble in the new mown hay

Brittle autumn's apple red
With ripened fruits and harvest bread
Stacked in the larder stashed below
To feed us through the falling snow

I like to rise when the sun she rises
Early in the morning
I like to hear the small bird singing
Merrily upon the lay land
Hurrah for the life of a country love
And to ramble in the new mown hay

The winter embers breathe with heat
Our sleeping vines are bittersweet
Where is the sun? Only Beltane knows
Hidden in the buds of the ramblin' rose

I like to rise when the sun she rises
Early in the morning
I like to hear the small bird singing
Merrily upon the lay land
Hurrah for the life of a country love
And to ramble in the new mown hay

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