I lay here on a grasy bank, looking at the sky, I find my job so weary, watching clouds go rushing by. So within a short time my eyes begin to close. I?ve worked so very hard to guide them passed And into orderly rows. If I could only get some help, when trying to achieve, I wouldn?t get so tired and end up fast a sleep. It really is a hard job, which takes it out of me. Especially with the thundering waves When I?m lying by the sea. You may have experienced a similar sort of thing, Of helping birds up high, to flap their weary wings. I find it very hard work, racing waves along the shore, Or teaching all the lazy birds to sing their songs in tune, It?s always such an effort, counting ripening apples fall.