(Taking the piss from a Traditional English Folksong, by
Summer is icumen in,
Wetly droun cuccu;
Pisseth rayn and winde agayn
All thinges bloweth thru:
Sing cuccu!
Sing thy bloodie larynx oute
For al the goode it du.
Thunder rumbleth, goodwife grumbleth.
Catch now alle the flu.
Cuccu, cuccu, summer seemeth nu
A steamyng pyle of pu.
I wish. Here upon the Anvil of God, Summer is a thing of never-ending, hammering heat.
So I suppose here that would read:
Summer is icumen in,
Crispey bayk cuccu;
Sunlyht torch and burn agayn
Clothes be swetted thru:
Or summat like that.
