Summertime. And the livin' is easy. Fish are jumpin'. And the cotton is high. Your daddy's rich. And your mamma's. Good lookin'. So hush little baby. Don't you cry. One of these mornings. You're going. To rise up singing. Then you'll spread. Your wings. And you'll take. To the sky. But till that morning. There's. A'nothing can harm you. With daddy. And mamma standing by