[Have a song, Barge. Rose does, despite everything else, have a good voice and she hasn't really had chance to use it yet.
This would be the particular version, I suppose (though you have to skip ahead to 3:00)]
Summer is acumin' in
Loudly sing Cuckoo
Grow the seed and blows the mead
And springs the wood anew
Sing Cuckoo!
Ewe bleats harshly after lamb
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In the Summerisle woods there growed a tree
And a very fine tree was he
And on that tree there was a limb
And on that limb there was a branch
And on that branch there was a spray
And on that spray there was a nest
And in that nest there was an egg
In that egg there was a bird
And on that bird there was a father
And on that feather there was a bed....
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[Private- Voice]
Now shrilly sing Cuckoo...
...Cuckoo...Cuckoo
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Not a mockery of myself, Sergeant Howie. What was the song she sang to you that night?
I saw a maid milk a bull
Well done liar.
I saw a maid milk a bull
Every stroke a bucketful
Do you remember it?
[A quiet laugh and she moves away from her harassment to continue about her celebrations...at least for a while.]
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And it's a bird.
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