[In The Olive Green Sings]
In the olive green he sings, oh, he sings
In the olive green
In the olive green he sings, oh, he sings
In the olive green

What bird would that be?
That sings in the olive green
Run and tell him to be quiet
That his singing hurts me
Run and tell him to be quiet
That his singing hurts me

You will be my darling pledge
You will be my beloved garment
You will be the cute bird
How happy sung in the morning

Oh, I love you
How much I love you
How much I love you
Without you, my soul, why do I love her?

And do not pass it through my door
Do not pass it through my door
And do not pass it through my door
Do not pass it through my door

I already said that your funeral
Do not go through my door
Because I do not want to look at you
Neither the face, nor live, nor dead
I already said that your funeral
Do not go through my door
Because I do not want to look at you
Not the little face, neither alive nor dead

My entrails, for you I will give them
That I am paid
With which you charm me well