A family of farmers near there be
That treateth all folk kindily
Who follow by the chapel creed
And gladly lend a hand to those in need
Three brothers are they in truth
No longer in the prime of youth
Though the father is still alive
And longer may he live and thrive

On the corner with his wife there be
A farmer now retired comfortably
Often when he sees folks walk
He stops his car to have a talk
Common sense he has in good measure
And to hear him always is a pleasure

Another farmer too lives off the layne
With his wife, the same again
They have two cottages they rent out
As well as sundry acres round about
Which bring them rent into their hand
And so they live off the fat of the land

A woman lives half way down our layne
Her husband died which was a shame
She must have shed many tears
For he was only sixty-five in years
But she does not live alone
Her daughter lives with her at home
She keeps her house as would a saint
No cracks in walls or flaking paint
Like a wooden ship of old
It faces out on fields that gently fold
Also she has her parents there
In a barn converted with great care

And then we have a bungalow I say
Where the father works on the farm all day
He drives a tractor he calls his own
And they have two boys now fully grown

There is a little cottage at the end
Where the owners like to spend
A day or two to come to stay
For they are vets and work away

Then there is us here as well
But for sure truth to tell
You know me well enough I fear
So I'll not describe myself just here