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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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It gives me a thrill |
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To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill |
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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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There's peace and goodwill |
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You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill |
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When the sun in the morning |
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Peeps over the hill, |
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And kisses the roses 'round my windowsill |
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Then my heart fills with gladness |
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When I hear the trill |
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Of the birds in the treetops on Mockin' Bird Hill |
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|
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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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It gives me a thrill |
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To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill |
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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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There's peace and goodwill |
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You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill |
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When it's late in the evening, |
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I climb up the hill |
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And survey all my kingdom while everything's still |
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Only me and the sky -- and an old whippoorwill |
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Singin' songs in the twilight on Mockin' Bird Hill |
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|
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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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It gives me a thrill |
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To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill |
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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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There's peace and goodwill |
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You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill |
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|
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Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee |
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There's peace and goodwill |
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You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill |
