There’s a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall
And the bells in the steeple too.
And up in the nursery an absurd little bird
Is popping up to say, “Cuckoo” (Cuckoo, cuckoo)
Regretfully they tell us but verbally they compel us
To say goodbye to you.
I’m glad to go, I cannot tell a lie
I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I fly
The sun has gone to bed and so must I
So long, farewell, au wiedersehen, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye