It's the widow now that owns that angry plow
The spartan mule and the crippled cow
The fallow field that will yield no more
As the fox lay sleeping beneath her kitchen floor

The stream can't contain such the withering rain
And from the pasture the fence, it is leaning away
The clouds crack and growl  like some great cat on the prowl
Crying out I am, I am over and over again

The days grow short as the nights grow long
The kettle sings its tortured song
A many petaled kiss, I place upon her brow
Oh, my lady, lady, I am loving you now

The winter birds have gone back again
Here the sprightly chickadee, gone now is the willow wren
In passing greet each other as if old, old friends
And to the voiceless trees, it is their own they will lend

The days grow short as the nights grow long
The kettle sings its tortured song
A many petaled kiss, I place upon her brow
Oh, my lady, lady, I am loving you now

Though all these things will change
The memories will remain
As green to gold and gold to brown
The leaves will fall to feed the ground
And in their falling make no sound
Oh, my lady, lady, I am loving you now

I've gathered all my money and I'm going to town
To buy my lady a long and flowing gown
'Cause come tomorrow morning, we're off to the county fair
I'll find a yellow flower and I will lace it in her hair

The days grow short as the nights grow long
The kettle sings its tortured song
A many petaled kiss, I place upon her brow
Oh, my lady, lady, I am loving you now
Oh, my lady, lady, I am loving you now