|
Oliver Cromwell
|
|
Oliver Cromwell lay buried and dead,
|
Hee-haw, buried and dead,
|
There grew an old apple-tree over his head,
|
Hee-haw, over his head.
|
The apples were ripe and ready to fall,
|
Hee-haw, ready to fall,
|
There came an old woman to gather them all,
|
Hee-haw, gather them all.
|
Oliver rose and gave her a drop,
|
Hee-haw, gave her a drop,
|
Which made the old woman go hippety hop,
|
Hee-haw, hippety hop.
|
The saddle and bridle, they lie on the shelf,
|
Hee-haw, lie on the shelf,
|
If you want any more your can sing it yourself,
|
Hee-haw, sing it yourself.
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Oliver Cromwell
|
| Sarah Brightman |
