When the cattle driver comes from plowing, He plants his cattle prod. A E I O U He plants his cattle prod. He finds his wife at the foot of the fire, Sad and so disconsolate. If you are sad, then tell me. I’ll make you a stew, With a turnip, and a cabbage, A skinny lark. When I am dead bury me In the deepest part of the cave. The pilgrims that will pass by, Will take of the holy water. And they will say, “Who died here?” Here is the poor Joanne. She went to paradise, To heaven with her goats.
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