The birds sing out and the grass is growing high.
The field warms in the sun.
Spring's coming on and the ice melts down
as it runs through the streams to the sea
far away, MaryAnn.
Now the grass growing high and the singing of the birds
might charm the hearts of some.
But all I feel is the cold spring rain
that says my love has gone
far away, MaryAnn
When she was here, my heart was bright and warm,
but now it grows so cold.
A man needs the love of a soft gentle girl.
Summer's gone, winter's now coming on.
Hurry home, MaryAnn.
Soon the grass will die and the birds fly south
and the ground ring hard as stone.
But her smile will melt the ice in my heart
when I see my love coming home,
on the hill, MaryAnn
But her smile will melt the ice in my heart
when I see my love coming home,
on the hill, MaryAnn, MaryAnn, MaryAnn.

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