A Bicycle Built for two
Daisy, daisy, give me your answer,do
I am half crazy, all for the love of you.
It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage.
But you’ll look sweet upon the seat, of a bicycle built for two.
Dixie
I wish I was in the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten.
Look away, book away, look away, Dixieland.
In Dixieland where I was born, early on one frosty monin’
Look away, book away, look away, Dixieland.
I wish I was in Dixie, Hurray! Hurray!
To live and die in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
In the good, old summertime
In the good, old summertime, in the good old summer time.
Strolling through, the shady lanes with your baby mine.
You hold her hand and she hold yours. And that’s a very good sign.
That she’s your tootsie-wootsie, in the good, old summertime Mary Had a little Lamb
Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb.
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went.
Everywhere that Mary went, the lam was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day, school one day, school one day.
It followed her to school one day, that was against the rule.
It made the children laugh and play, laugh and play, laugh and play.
Why does the lamb love Mary so, mary so, Mary so?
Why does the lamb love mary so? The eager children cry.
Why, Mary loves the lam, you know lamb, you know, lamb, you know.
Mary loves the lamb, you know, the teacher did reply. Oh, Susanna!
Oh, I come from Alabama my banjo on my knee.
And I’m going to Louisiana, my true love for to see.
Wee, it rained all night the day I left. The weather it was dry.
The sun to hot, I froze to death.
Susanna, don’t you cry.
Oh, susanna! Oh, don’t your cry for me.
For I come from Alabama with my banjo on my knee. Row, row,row your boat
Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. Take me out to the ball game.
Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the crowd.
Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks.
I don’t’ care if ever get back.
‘Cause it’s root, root, root for the home team.
If they don’t win, it’s a shame.
For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out at the old ball game. Ten Little Indians
One little, two little, three little Indians: Four little, five little, six little Indians;
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians; Ten little Indian boys.
Ten little, nine little, eight little Indians; Seven little, six little, five little Indians;
Four little, three little, tow little Indians; One little Indian boy.
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