Down by the old mill screen,
dressed in pink and blue.
You were sixteen, you were sixteen,
My village queen, my village queen,
Now by the old, not the new, but the old
Mill street, not the river, but the street
Where I first, not last, but first
Met you, not her, but you
With your eyes, not your nose,
Of blue, not green, but blue
Prestidig, not gang, but king
Of two, not free, but two
It was there, not here, but there
I knew, not old, but knew
That you loved, not liked, but loved me
True, not false, but true
You were sixteen, you were sixteen,
My village queen, my village queen.
By the old mill, Spring, the old mill, Spring.