A lovely pair of swooping swallows, gather feathers from the hens,
Gather, gather, working, working, to and fro and back again.
Then the nature thing that follows, fills their house with fluff and cheer;
Singing, singing, silvery singing, raising families twice a year.
But today in plain brown wrapper, flits tenacious little wren;
Don't like feathers! No, don't like them, can't have feathers from the hens!
Cleaning, cleaning, working, working, throw them out the small round door.
Singing, singing, joyous singing, like I've never heard before! !