Bluebell - Alma Cogan

Pickin' a bluebell in the merry month of May,

And suddenly I saw him strolling on his way,

Pickin' a bluebell just the same as I was too,

I thought I could be happy with a boy like you.

And as he turned and smiled at me my heart stood still,

I never knew a smile could give me such a thrill.

He was a handsome laddie and he looked so good,

I promised that I’d meet him in the bluebell wood.

Half past seven by the old oak tree,

I was waiting anticipating

What would happen to a girl like me

When he came along?

Pickin' a bluebell in the merry month of May,

And suddenly I saw him strolling on his way,

Pickin' a bluebell just the same as I was too,

I thought I could be happy with a boy like you.

He looked wonderful, oh so wonderful,

How was I to see he would make a fool of me?

Two dark flashing eyes looked like paradise;

My heart flickered like a flame.

What was I to do?

Met my Waterloo.

There I stood for him, waiting in the wood for him;

I’m confessing, I learned my lesson

And now I’ll never be the same.

Pickin' a Bluebell in the merry month of May

Is something I’ll remember when I’m old and grey,

And if I live to ninety-two I know darn well,

I never want to see another Scots bluebell.