Just a bashful young man
You first came to me
With a flower you picked
By an old oak tree
Your soft-spoken words
Still ring in my ears
I picked you this flower
For your soft, pretty hair
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You're not much on words
But I love your style
Your expression of love
As pure as a child's
Those honey-filled days
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Will always be our words
Much sweeter than words
You say it with flowers
Now it never fails
When one little bow came
Can make the sun shine
On the rainiest day
There are people out there
Who wait too long
To send flowers of love
After love is gone
Saying I love you
Is much easier said
Than bending one's back
To pick a rose of red
If your love was rain
There would always be showers
When words can't be found
You say it with flowers
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh