Sing a song of Land Girls,
Up before it's light,
With four-and-twenty jobs to do
Before the breakfast bite;
When the breakfast's over
There's little to be done,
Except to plough the furrow
And let the harrows run,
And shear the sheep, and top the beet,
And feed the squealing swine,
And brush the hedge, and thatch the rick,
And milk the gentle kine,
And spread the muck, and sow the wheat,
And clean and dress the land,
And things like that which city folks
Can never understand.