| In Arcady, your life trips along
|
| Pure and simple as the shepherd’s song
|
| Seraphic pipes along the way in Arcady
|
| In Arcady, in Arcady
|
| Never saw I such a scene
|
| Of such fair maids upon such remote a green
|
| They employ their holiday with dance and game
|
| And things I may never name
|
| In Arcady, in Arcady
|
| Where he said he was your teacher
|
| He taught you true and wise
|
| But now you know more than your teacher
|
| I see nothing but cool self-regard in your eyes
|
| In Arcady
|
| So you see how twisted it becomes
|
| See how quickly twisted it becomes
|
| When the cat gut binds my ankles to your bedstead
|
| That ain’t love, no that ain’t love
|
| Said he was your teacher
|
| And taught you true and wise
|
| Now you know more than your teacher
|
| I see nothing but cool self-regard in your eyes
|
| In Arcady, in Arcady
|
| In Arcady (In Arcady)
|
| In Arcady your life trips along
|
| Pure and simple as the shepherd’s song
|
| Few seraphic pipes along the way in Arcady
|
| In Arcady
|
| In Arcady
|
| In Arcady
|
| In Arcady |