The Cuckoo

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[Verse 1]
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Oh the cuckoo she's a pretty bird - She sings as she flies
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She bringeth good tiding, she telleth no lies
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She sucketh white flowers - For to keep her voice clear
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And the more she singeth 'cuckoo' the summer draweth near


[Verse 2]
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As I was a-walking and talking one day
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I met my own true love as he came that way
                         Gm  C                 Bbm      Gm    Dm  Dm
Though to meet him was a pleasure - Though the courting was a-woe
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For I've found him false hearted, he'd kiss me - And then he'd go


[Verse 3]
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I wish I were a scholar and could handle the pen
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I'd write to my lover and to all roving men
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I would tell them of the grief and woe that attend on their lies
        Dm             Cm             G            Dm    Am Dm Am
I would wish them have pity on the flower, when it dies


[Instrumental]
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   Dm   C    Dm   Dm   Dm
   F    Am   Cm   Dm   Dm
   Dm   Am   G    Dm   Am   Dm   Am


[Verse 3]
  Dm            C                 Dm         Dm       Am
I wish I were a scholar and could handle the pen
    Dm          C            Dm         Dm       Dm
I'd write to my lover and to all roving men
        Dm        F      Dm        Gm  F      Bb            Dm    Dm
I would tell them of the grief and woe that attend on their lies
        Dm             Cm             G            Dm    Am Dm Am
I would wish them have pity on the flower, when it dies


[Verse 2]
   Dm      C           Dm          Dm     Am
As I was a-walking and talking one day
  Dm         C            Dm           Dm       Dm
I met my own true love as he came that way
                         Gm  C                 Bbm      Gm    Dm  Dm
Though to meet him was a pleasure - Though the courting was a-woe
         Dm              Am  Bb             G                  Dm  Am Dm Am
For I've found him false hearted, he'd kiss me - And then he'd go


[Verse 1]
       Dm             C                 Dm           Dm       Am
Oh the cuckoo she's a pretty bird - She sings as she flies
    Dm            C           Dm         Dm       Dm
She bringeth good tiding, she telleth no lies
    F             Dm  Cm    C      G              Gm    Dm  Dm
She sucketh white flowers - For to keep her voice clear
        Dm                C  Bbm      Am G           Dm  Am Dm Am
And the more she singeth 'cuckoo' the summer draweth near


[Outro]
        Dm                C  Bbm      Am G           Dm
And the more she singeth 'cuckoo' the summer draweth near