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Wherever did my deft hands go,
This lovely springtime morn;
Surely they have fallen off,
Somewhere down the road.
Way back down the road, oh down that lonesome trail;
Resting in the shade, somewhere down the road.
Wherever is my bright head gone,
This scorching summer morn;
Surely it has hit the ground,
Somewhere on the way.
Way back down the road, oh down that dusty track;
Roasting in some ditch, somewhere down the road.
Wherever is my fine cock gone,
This sparkling autumn morn;
Surely it has crawled away,
Somewhere down the road.
Way back down the road, oh down that stony path;
Whistling as it goes, somewhere down the road.
Wherever did my swift legs go,
This freezing winter morn;
Surely they have taken flight,
Somewhere on the way.
Way up ahead of me, along the wint'ry trail;
Running for their lives, somewhere up the road.
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