Stepping onto leaves thinking of raking them later
Ocean of dry leaves posing the question to her
Where would you start, pretty miss of yonder
How would you finish it all before dinner

Oh I'd start way back in the south corner
Where the old cabin shed stores the rake
Thinks she of her afternoon's tedious chore
Wishing that she could set the piles on fire

Alas, it's dreaded to have outdoor fire
For fear it would burn down more than you desire
Back where I'm from that would be campfire
Here I'd better bag'em for easy transfer

Stepping onto leaves thinking of raking them later
Ocean of dry leaves posing the question to her
Where would you start, pretty miss of yonder
How would you finish it all before dinner