Mockin' Bird Hill

When the sun in the mornin' peeps over the hill, And kisses the roses 'round my window sill; Then my heart fills with gladness when I hear the trill, Of the birds in the tree tops on Mockin' Bird Hill. CHORUS: Tra-la-la twittle-dee-dee-dee It gives me a trill, To wake up in the mornin' to the Mockin' birds trill; Tra-la-la twittle-dee-dee-dee There's peace and goodwill; You're welcome as the flowers On Mockin' Bird Hill. Got a three-cornered plow and an acre to till, And a mule that I bought for a ten dollar bill; There's a tumble-down shack and a rusty old mill, But it's my home sweet home up on Mockin' Bird Hill. CHORUS When it's late in the evening, I climb up the hill, And survey my kingdom while everything's still: Only me and the sky and an old whip-poor-will, Sing-in' songs in the twilight on Mockin' Bird Hill. CHORUS

Last updated: March 1, 2014