There’s trouble these days, both in distant lands,
And here at home on every hand;
From the mountains to the ocean strand,
It’s never hard to find:

The king is away in a foreign war,
A crack runs through my own front door,
My neighbor has lost his finest boar,
And my cows have not come home.

A rowboat sank in the village pond,
And three of the king’s best ships are gone;
My tone-deaf aunt composed a song
And asked my mother to sing.