It was a lover and his lass, 
   With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonny no,
     & a hey nonny no:
That o’er the green cornfield did pass, 
   In springtime, in springtime, in springtime,
     the only pretty ring time, 
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; 
   hey ding a ding, ding, hey ding a ding, ding.
    Sweet lovers love the spring.

It was a lover and his missus,
  With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonny no,
     & a hey nonny no:
That o’er the ripe cornfield did pass,
  At Easter, at Easter, at Easter,
    with many pretty babies,
When kids do squawk before they learn to talk:
   hey ding a ding, ding, & someone always rings
     When hands are chocabloc,

It was a father and his brood,
  With a hey, & a ho, & a “Hey Nonny! No!”
    & a “Nonny, I said no!”
That o’er the parched cornfield did pass,
  In summer, in summer, in summer, 
    the onetime pretty sun time,
When kids play games, but all you hear are pings;
   hey ding a ding, ding, O God is that a wasp sting?
     Mem’ries of the spring.

It was a husband and his wife,
  With a hey, and oh dear!, and yer what? 
    nonny, no … what the hell? O not again! 
That o’er the empty field did pass,
   In autumn, in autumn, in autumn,
     When chilling wind do blow, 
And shadows grow, When birds no longer sing, 
   hey ding a ding, ding – and rings no longer fit;
     And all has gone to shit.

It was two agèd gentlefolk,
  With a hat, and a stick, damn near blind; 
   “Nonny no? I said hey … O never mind.”
To cross a field is just a joke 
  In winter, in winter, in winter;
    When all your calls are scammers: 
You can’t hear birds, but ding a ding!
  You still can jump on instagram 
     With mem’ries of the spring