| But morning comes to meet me, and I know it isn't true, For the day-time's sort of kinder than the night, And all the sky above me gleams the brightest, fairest blue. When my honey colored Maisie comes in sight. You're the sun that makes the cornfields look alive with lovely light, You're the sun that makes the cornfields look alive with lively light, You're the honey in the sugar of the cane, And I'm going to tell you girlie, that you are my heart's delight, While I kiss you, as I used to, once again. |
