I will stroll the merry way
And jump the hedges first
And drink the clear
Clean waterfall 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 garden's all wet with rain.
Oh sweet thing, sweet thing
Oh my, my, my sweet thing.
And I shall drive my chariot
down you streets and cry
'hey its 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 ever felt the pain.
We shall walk and talk
in gardens all misty wet with rain.