Working time
When father goes to do his work
I like to go along with him to talk
We laugh and talk as we walk
Sometimes we sing our song
Blackie, my dog, runs away ahead
Then back he jumps at my head
He know just where to find the goats
On the fields or on the hills
We find the pigs and chickens,
Find eggs, bring wood in the kitchen
As we pass the door
Our supper smells so good
When our work is done
We go inside to rest and lay down
Each second on the field is fun
But working time is the best.
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