There’s a big storm a-brewing,
the fallen leaves are a-strewing.
The wind’s howling through the trees.
It’s more than a summer breeze.
“He’s not very smart,” I’ve heard them say
cos I’m dressed in rags, in an odd way,
but I’ve stood in this field ev’ry day.
Waving my arms in the summer breeze
I’ve stood in rain, til it’s made me sneeze
and I’ve nearly fallen to my knees.
I met her out in Paris, France,
in a bar where I took a glance,
and standing nearby, just by chance,
I saw her dance, I saw her dance.