Pembroke
Autumn comin' early
Summer comin' late
What can a poor soul do
'n' Arty says the leaves'll fall in May
'n' we'll be swimmin' in a sea of blue
Bells ringin' too
For the chosen few.
'n' Arty says the things
They're doin' up north
Don't flatter Mother Nature none
Says what she's given
Well she can take including
Every single mother's son
And daughter too
And baby too.
I don't know what the wise men said
But I sure hope to find out soon
If I don't maybe see you later Jack
Somewhere like the moon
June maybe too late
June maybe too late.
June maybe too late
You can take that as a warning
Ringing out
June maybe too late
Maybe see you judgement morning
Singing loud.
'n' Arty says the pop goes weasel in May
And I got a hunch he might be right
So I'm gonna go and pack my bags today
An' I'll be gone 'fore you can strike a light
June maybe too late
June maybe too late
June maybe too late
June maybe too late
June, june, june maybe too late