Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire, Heading for the land of dreams.
When I look back to those happy childhood days, Like yesterday it seems.
It was grand, my mother held my hand, Daddy was the old Gee-Gee.
The old wooden hill was the old wooden stair, And Bedfordshire a cot where I knelt to say my prayer.
Climbing up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire, They were happy, happy days for me.
Last night I dreamt about the place where I was born, The village school, the winding lane, the fields of waving corn.
Gee, that dream brought memories to me, My childhood days in fancy I could see.
When the sun had gone to rest and I was tired of play, Dad would put me on his back and then to me he'd say.
Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire, Heading for the land of dreams.
When I look back to those happy childhood days, Like yesterday it seems.
It was grand, my mother held my hand, Daddy was the old Gee-Gee.
The old wooden hill was the old wooden stair, And Bedfordshire a cot where I knelt to say my prayer.
Climbing up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire, They were happy, happy days for me.