In winter, when the fields are white, I sing this song for your delight.
In spring, when woods are getting green, I'll try and tell you what I mean:
In summer, when the days are long, Perhaps you'll understand the song:
In autumn, when the leaves are brown, Take pen and ink, and write it down.
I sent a message to the fish: I told them, 'This is what I wish.'
The little fishes of the sea, They sent an answer back to me.
The little fishes' answer was 'We cannot do it, Sir, because–'
I sent to them again to say 'It will be better to obey.'
The fishes answered, with a grin, 'Why, what a temper you are in!'
I told them once, I told them twice: They would not listen to advice.
I took a kettle large and new, Fit for the deed I had to do.
My heart went hop, my heart went thump: I filled the kettle at the pump.
Then someone came to me and said 'The little fishes are in bed.'
I said to him, I said it plain, 'Then you must wake them up again.'
I said it very loud and clear: I went and shouted in his ear.
But he was very stiff and proud: He said, 'You needn't shout so loud!'
And he was very proud and stiff: He said 'I'd go and wake them, if–'
I took a corkscrew from the shelf: I went to wake them up myself.
And when I found the door was locked, I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.
And when I found the door was shut, I tried to turn the handle, but–