It's Sunday, work is slow, the hobo knows what to do. We're heading out to the Ivy League. The dog falls off the wall, the peacock croaks. Where city gasoline still smells like fir, where the bee hums on the flowers. A walk in the forest, a walk in the forest. Yes, we go without haste and we do the rest where it suits us both. Yes, a walk in the forest makes Sunday much nicer. Come, hang yourself with me for a walk in the forest. And to the rabbit, who makes a little man, the fox says now, old friend, good night. Today I'll go to bed early. When the fog rises through the fir trees, the sandman comes and shows the children where the seven dwarfs once met. A walk in the forest, a walk in the forest. Yes, we go without haste and we do the rest where it suits us both. Yes, a walk in the forest makes Sunday much nicer. Come, hang yourself with me for a walk in the forest. Da da da da ... Where the baseswell knocks and the cuckoo caws, where city gasoline still smells like fir, where the bee hums on the flowers. A walk in the forest, a walk in the forest. Yes, we go without haste, and the rest we do where it suits us both. Yes, a walk in the forest makes Sunday much more beautiful. Come hang yourself with me for a walk in the forest. Come hang yourself with me for a walk in the forest. Come hang yourself with me for a walk in the forest. Oh yes!