| F#m | C#7 | F#m | C#7 | | On a | wagon | bound for | market |
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| F#m | Bm | F#m | C#7 | | There's a | calf with the | mournful | eye |
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| F#m | C#7 | F#m | C#7 | | High | above him | there's a | swallow |
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| F#m | Bm | F#m | C#7 | F#m | | Winging | swiftly | through | the | sky |
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| | | E | A | | | | How the winds are | laughing |
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| | | E | A | | | They | laugh with all their | might |
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| | | E | A | F#m | | | | Laugh and laugh the | whole day | through |
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| | | C#7 | F#m | | | and | half the summer's | night |
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| | | C#7 | F#m | | | | Donna, Donna, Donna, | Donna |
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| | | E7 | A | | | | Donna, Donna, Donna, | Don |
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| | | C#7 | F#m | | | | Donna, Donna, Donna, | Donna |
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| | | C#7 | F#m | | | | Donna, Donna, Donna, | Don |
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Stop complaining said the farmer |
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Who told you al calf to be? |
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Why don't you have wings to fly with |
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Like a Swallow proud and free |
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Calves are easily bound and sloughtered, |
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Never knowing the reason why |
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Bot whoever treasures freedom |
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Like the swallow has learned to fly |
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