In winter, when the fields are white, I sing this song for your delight. In spring, when woods are getting green, I'll try and tell you what I mean: In summer, when the days are long, Perhaps you'll understand the song: In autumn, when the leaves are brown, Take pen and ink, and write it down. I sent a message to the fish: I told them, 'This is what I wish.' The little fishes of the sea, They sent an answer back to me. The little fishes' answer was 'We cannot do it, Sir, because--' I sent to them again to say 'It will be better to obey.' The fishes answered, with a grin, 'Why, what a temper you are in!' I told them once, I told them twice: They would not listen to advice. I took a kettle large and new, Fit for the deed I had to do. My heart went hop, my heart went thump: I filled the kettle at the pump. Then someone came to me and said 'The little fishes are in bed.' I said to him, I said it plain, 'Then you must wake them up again.' I said it very loud and clear: I went and shouted in his ear. But he was very stiff and proud: He said, 'You needn't shout so loud!' And he was very proud and stiff: He said 'I'd go and wake them, if--' I took a corkscrew from the shelf: I went to wake them up myself. And when I found the door was locked, I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked. And when I found the door was shut, I tried to turn the handle, but--