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As I climbed Lynden Hill I came upon the cricket ground
In evening's gilded hour
The sun like honey ran so I sought shade beneath the arms
Of a low embracing bower
The groundsman tipped his hat, bid me 'good day'
Like as wraiths they came to walk upon the velvet green
To play the noble game
The groundsman tipped his hat, bid me 'good day'
The groundsman tipped his hat and bid me 'stay'

Old men watched from the pavilion reproached by ghosts
Of summers past and aching to be called
Recalling those who bowled with casual ease
Whose honest crack would clear the boundaries

Lyrics continue below...

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A summons brought the outfield bowler, advised from every
Quarter as the batsman stalked his crease

So Bob was bowled in his last innings, he started for the pavilion
Turned, and sadly waved goodbye
As blazered boys dared each to shake his hand their master asked
"How does the scoring stand?"

Then all too soon the stumps were gathered
The groundsman claimed his bicycle and set off home for tea

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