When labor is light and the morning is fair,
I find it a pleasure beyond all compare
To hitch up my nag and go hurrying down
And take Katie May for a ride into town;
  For bumpety-bump goes the wagon,
    And tra-la-la-la our lay.
There's joy in our song as we travel along
  In the light of a glorious day.

A coach would be fine, but a spring wagon's good;
My jeans are a match for Kate's gingham and hood;
The hills take us up and the vales take us down,
But what matters that? we are riding to town,
  For bumpety-bump goes the wagon,
    And tra-la-la-la our lay.
There's joy in our song as we travel along
  In the light of a glorious day.

 ... 

The wagon is weak and the roadway is rough,
  And tho' it is long it is not long enough,
For mid all my ecstasies this is the crown
  To sit beside Katie and ride into town,
    For bumpety-bump goes the wagon,
    And tra-la-la-la our lay.
And if I had my way, I 'd be willing to pay
  If the road could be made twice as long.