The best time is the summer time
When cow parsley is high,
And daylight hours of field flowers
Are spread beneath a sky
That drops upon them so much light
And unseals blooms that closed with night.
The best time is the summer time
Till cow parsley is dry.

And there is clover now
And bees to take the yield.
And it is over now
And there are changes in the field.

The best games are the summer games,
The bowler rushing in.
Though voices call and wickets fall
To seamers or the spin,
Men caught in the pavilion’s shade
Can play the strokes they never played.
The best games are the summer games
We still have time to win.

And so we find we’re staying
After afternoon.
And so we find they’re playing
Changes to a tune.

The best songs are the summer songs
With friends and a guitar,
When choruses are all that is,
And we have travelled far,
It seems we’ve passed all wish to roam
So let the fields become our home.
The best songs are the summer songs
Beneath the evening star.