I wish, I wish my baby was born
Sitting on her papa's knee
And if our girl was dead and gone
With the green, green grass growing over my feet
I wish, I wish my baby was born
Sitting on her papa's knee
And if our girl was dead and gone
With the green, green grass growing over my feet
I ain't a hound and never will be
'Til the sweet apple grows on a sour apple tree
But still I hope the day will come
That you and I shall meet as one
