By Original Work
They told %s aunt fanny,
We chased a hen through the mud,
With merry mess in our hearts,
And and that was that.
Through fields of green we roam,
Where voices softly call,
The memory finds a home,
And soft shines through all.
Let love fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For days beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So chased a hen and sing, friends,
With merry mess filling each day,
Till dreams guide us home again,
And we find our home for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.