Dark brown is the river.
Golden is the sand,
It flows along forever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a’floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a’boating —
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
