Carin’ not a single copper if my shoe-string comes unlaced,
Then go out an’ milk old Muly an’ turn out th’ spotted calf
While th’ chickens giggle ’round me an’ the speckled roosters laff,
Then go in th’ summer kitchen, set me down an’ churn a spell,
Till time comes t’ put th’ victuals on an’ ring th’ dinner bell.
Yes, I love th’ peaceful quiet o’ th’ farm where it’s so still,
Nothin’ but th’ ducks a-quackin’ ’n’ pigs a-squealin’ fur their swill,
Nothin’ but th’ geese a-clackin’ ’n’ the bawlin’ o’ th’ cows,
An’ th’ nickerin’ o’ th’ hosses as they’re comin’ t’ th’ house;
Oh, I want t’ leave th’ city with its racket an’ its roar