Who's stolen the melancholy, who's spilt the joi de vivre
Who's listening to Leadbelly, who's shaping up to leave
The seal of her lips is broken
Words not spoken for many years
Lay festooned in the vale of tears
Who's frozen the happy holly, who's undone the fabric weave
Who's christening the wobbly jelly, who's rolling up their sleeve
The smile in her eyes is awoken
A joyful token to turn back the fears
As once waylaid, by her thoughtless peers
