It was in the month of May, when the lambs do sport and play
And the birds sing sweetly at the dawn
I met a country maid and unto her did say
"Let me wind up your little ball of yarn
"Oh, no" says she to me, "You're a stranger, I can see
And though I admire your Northern charm
I prefer to let one of those with fine manners and fine clothes
Wind up me little ball of yarn"
I took her by the waist and gently laid her down
Not meaning to do her any harm
She looked up into my face, locked her legs around me waist
and says, "Wind up my little ball of yarn"
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Then she stood up, took her skirt from round her waist
And she went happily down the lane
I went skipping o'er the green for fear that I'd been seen
Winding up her little ball of yarn
So come all you young maids and hark to what I say
And don't go out walking in the morn
But like the blackbird keep your head beneath your wing
And your hand upon your little ball of yarn
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