The days are short and the nights are long
And the wind is nipping cold.
The tasks are hard and the sums are wrong
And the teachers often scold.
But Johnny Macree, oh, what cares he
As he whistles along the way,
As he whistles along the way.
«It will all come right by tomorrow night,»
Says Johnny Macree today.
The plums are few and the cake is plain
And the shoes are out at toe.
For coins you look in the purse in vain:
They were all spent long ago.
But Johnny Macree, oh, what cares he
As he whistles along the street,
As he whistles along the street?
«Would you have the blues for a pair of shoes
When you still have a pair of feet?»