The fount gets muddy at the headwaters, darling
Comes down and winds around the plain, darling..
You're always in different moods, darling
Mountains go up in smoke, meadow grass grows on them
If I do not see my darling,
I'll get in a pickle, I'll get in a pickle
Haven't you ever been down to the plain, darling?
Haven't you ever been on fire within the fire of love, darling?
Haven't you ever been fed up with hurting the dearests, darling?
Mountains go up in smoke, meadow grass grows on them
If I do not see my darling,
I'll get in a pickle. I'll get in a pickle.
Then I look like winter which had never seen summer, darling
My mind turns to be one which had had no other trouble, darling
And I look like drunk as a fiddler, darling
Mountains go up in smoke Meadow grass grows on them
If I do not see my darling,
I'll get in a pickle. I'll get in a pickle.