When I was a boy,
the moon was a pearl
the sun a yellow gold.
But when I was a man,
the wind blew cold
the hills were upside down.

But now that I have gone from here
there's no place I'd rather be
than to float my chances on the tide
Back in the good old world

On October's last I'll fly back home
rolling down winding way.
Scare crows are all dressed in rags
out at the edge of the field I lay

and all I've got's a pocket full
of flowers on my grave.
Oh but summer is gone
I remember it best
Back in the good old world