Round Bales of Hay    

Randy Woods   

Round bales of hay, round bales of hay 

Some mornings I waken and why am I thinking of 

Round bales of hay 

All of my thinking while yet I am blinking goes: 

Round bales of hay 

At breakfast, bowl and spoon are clinking: 

Round bales of hay 

And as the orange juice I am drinking, 

Round bales of hay, round bales of hay. Remarkable! 

Round bales of hay, Round bales of hay 

Some days the only words I say are: 

Round bales of hay. 

Round bales of hay, Round bales of hay 

Has the whole world gone hi-jinking? 

Round bales of hay 

Everyone I meet is winking: 

Round bales of hay. 

On bedlam I believe I'm brinking 

Round bales of hay 

My universe is surly shrinking 

Round bales of hay 

Round bales of hay 

Round bales of hay 

Why do you sit and stare that way, you 

Round bales of hay? 

Well, say it if you have something to say, you 

Round hales of bay, or rather, 

Bound hales of ray 

I mean, brown rails of I mean.. 

Say! Bale me up, wheel me away 

I'll say no other words today 

Close the window, just halfway 

I like the fragrance, strange to say. 

Would you send supper on a tray? 

Some broth, perhaps, or consomme. 

A little rest, I'll be okay. 

Just keep those round hay bales at bay.