lift the stone up
lift the stone up
carry down the winding path to the river lip
cut the fallen log
cut the fallen log
carry down the winding path to the river lip
high near the tree-tops sharp and evergreen
the sun shines on the river and its cloven beach
Ay-da, da, ay-da!
Ay-da, da, ay-da!
toiling river, brother of we
as the tawny owl calls the night
plough through the forrest, cut the thick and wide
Ay-da, da, ay-da!
Ay-da, da, ay-da!
carve relentless path, so do we