As I walked over North Botley copse I saw a fine lady ghost across the tops With a ring on her finger and the wings on her toes She can have music wherever she goes Those were the days in the cradle of our love Those are the days I dream of sweetly Those were the days and I thank the stars above The flycatcher, the cherry tree, the chestnut coal fire sea
As the last hope of sunshine embers on the hill At the end of all the rainbows where the timeless legends dwell A ghostly coach and four love, storms the midnight rain As silently aurora almightly refrains Those were the days in the cradle of our love Those are the days I dream of sweetly Those were the days and I thank the stars above The flycatcher, the cherry tree, the chestnut coal fire sea