Noel, noel, you were so sure again,
Something less, something to slip through you,
And when it goes and you can find your way,
Your way out of this, I said, your own sweet bliss.
Noel, oh, you could tell the way, they say,
Your swingin something strange and all,
Your sure the whippoorwill knows,
Your own sweet bliss,
And you must find your way out of this, I said,
Find your own sweetness.