Singing singing Buttercups and Daisies

The English, just like so many people around the world, have lost their culture. And just to confirm it, trying to find this on Google took almost longer than going to a library!

Meanwhile, they have been assiduous at preserving the Bricks and Mortar of old buildings that sit stodgily and empty of the living people and culture that built them. The buildings of England are like pickled dead things in a Nazi scientist's laboratory. But you can sell that to a stupid tourist very easily, because there are always more tourists from America, Australia, India, China, Japan, etc., etc., And the tourists never read blogs like this. They are far too busy shopping.

Because indigenous cultural diversity in England has disappeared under the Juggernaut of Globalism, is it any surprise that the English are always desperate to fly away on holidays or to emigrate? It is no longer easy to get a thrill from just going to Strawberry Fair. No, nowadays you have to fly around the world to Kerala while complaining about the crowds on the roads, at the airports, and in the holiday resorts. So Ri-fol, Ri-fol.....

As I was going to Strawberry Fair,
Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies,
I met a maiden taking her wares, fol-de-dee.
Her eyes were blue and golden her hair,
As she went on to Strawberry Fair.

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,
Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.

"Kind sir, pray pick of my basket," she said;
Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies
"My cherries ripe or my roses red, fol-de-dee.
My strawberries sweet I can of them spare,
As I go on to Strawberry Fair."

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,
Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.

"Your cherries soon will be wasted away;"
Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies
"Your roses wither'd and never stay, fol-de-dee.
'Tis not to seek such perishing ware,
That I am tramping to Strawberry Fair."

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,
Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.

"I want to purchase a generous heart;"
Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies
"A tongue that neither is nimble nor tart, fol-de-dee
An honest mind, but such trifles are rare.
I doubt if they're found at Strawberry Fair."

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,
Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.

"The price I offer, my sweet pretty maid;"
Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies
"A ring of gold on your finger displayed, fol-de-dee,
So come, make over to me your ware
In church today at Strawberry Fair."

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,
Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.