Oh the cruel war is raging Your daddy must fight And I know I will miss you From morning till night You cannot go with me It grieves my heart so You cannot go with me Oh no my son no
For your waist is to slender Your fingers to small And your cheeks are to tender To take the cannon-ball They will give me shiny medals They'll call "the killing brave" But I'd rather hold my darling son Then fill a thousand graves
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