Summertime, and the livin' is easy,
Fish are jumpin', and the cotton is high;
Oh, your daddy's rich, and your ma is
good-lookin',
So hush, little baby, don't you cry.
One of these mornings, you're going to
rise up singing,
Then you'll spread your wings, and you'll
take to the sky,
But till that morning, there's a-nothin'
can harm you,
With daddy and mommy standin' by.
One of these mornings, you're going to
rise up singing,
Then you'll spread your wings, and you'll
take to the sky,
But till that morning, there's a-nothin'
can harm you,
With daddy and mommy standin' by.
(Heyword, George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin)