Didn't your granny ever tell you
Don't pick the bluebells 

If you are to stumble across one 
Hiding amongst the weeds 
Peeping above the shrubs
Stretching beyond the pavement
Swaying in an desolate park
Reaching across meadows
Or 
Gathering in countryside fields

Then just remember what granny said 
Don't pick the bluebells

Unfortunately 
There was once a young, slim built man
Who walked home one day and foolishly conjured up a plan 
For lying beside the pavement
And to the young mans amazement 
Lay a carpet of lilac bluebells
Only if the boy was to dwell
He'd know all too well 
That granny did often tell
Don't pick the bluebells

If a bluebell loops to one side 
Then one ought to leave it to reside 
For native bluebells comes a tell tale sign
That an ancient woodland lay on the site below
But little did the young man know 
Plucking four bunches and ready to show
Oh how his granny would be cursing from below 
And instead of rising to say a quick hello 
She would have repeated her demand from time ago
Don't pick the bluebells 
Don't pick the bluebells...