By Original Work
My wife %s me not to drink,
We chased a hen for a bite,
With ain't it rich in our hearts,
And the laugh's on me.
Through fields of amber we roam,
Where songs softly call,
The heart finds a home,
And soft shines through all.
Let music fill the air,
And joy fill our souls,
For moments beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So chased a hen and play, friends,
With ain't it rich filling each day,
Till songs guide us home again,
And we find our love for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.