I'll swing in the air so high,
Look over the hills to the sea;
And I'll watch the waves roll,
As they capture my soul,
While they sing their paean to me.
I'll swing up to meet the clouds,
And jump in their soft white down;
And I'll float weightless by,
Give myself to the sky,
Until it is time to come down.
I'll swing near the old oak tree,
And rustle the leaves as I pass;
And an acorn I'll snatch,
And a butterfly catch,
As I come back to earth's morass.
I'll swing 'til my heart's content,
With the soft blowing breeze in my hair;
And I'll have not a care,
Swinging here, swinging there,
'Til all of my pleasure's been spent.