Bluebell

Pickin' a bluebell in the merry month of May,
And suddenly I saw him strolling on his way,
Pickin' a bluebell just the same as I was too,
I thought I could be happy with a boy like you.
And as he turned and smiled at me my heart stood still,
I never knew a smile could give me such a thrill.
He was a handsome laddie and he looked so good,
I promised that I’d meet him in the bluebell wood.
Half past seven by the old oak tree,
I was waiting anticipating
What would happen to a girl like me
When he came along?
Pickin' a bluebell in the merry month of May,
And suddenly I saw him strolling on his way,
Pickin' a bluebell just the same as I was too,
I thought I could be happy with a boy like you.
He looked wonderful, oh so wonderful,
How was I to see he would make a fool of me?
Two dark flashing eyes looked like paradise;
My heart flickered like a flame.
What was I to do? Met my Waterloo.
There I stood for him, waiting in the wood for him;
I’m confessing, I learned my lesson
And now I’ll never be the same.
Pickin' a Bluebell in the merry month of May
Is something I’ll remember when I’m old and grey,
And if I live to ninety-two I know darn well,
I never want to see another Scots bluebell.