Lyrics:
Papa's in the kitchen Mama's in the field There's a murder in the hen house Mud flung high upon the wheels Ol' rooster in the dooryard He's
about my dooryard Marking the reach of the winter sea Rooted in sand and dragging drift-wood Straggled the purple wild sweet-pea Always I climbed
And I've learned to smile, I've learned to behave to clean up my dooryard, to set up my cave But ooooh where have you gone? Straying through I've
pieces of pyrite A shard of glass shaped like the moon The six dozen dooryard violets I gathered last autumn in Second harvest One Celtic knot that is
X116 Een lentelied Geïnspireerd op het gedicht When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd van Walt Whitman (1819-1892) Hertaling en muziek: Henk
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