Leave your politics, leave your pen, Leave your income tax return, Leave your ink and fax and turn - We're off to the hollows and hills. Hollows and hills, hollows and hills.
Am I the only one here? The hedgerows are scented and pretty with may, And white is the cow-parsley bord'ring the way, But the ramblers have mostly gone home for the day.
This mansion has many rooms. Sunlit salons with faded wallpaper. Antique rings that plink against green glass spikes. Ponderous chests of linens and lavender.