I wish I wish my baby was born
And sitting on its papa's knee,
And me, poor girl, was dead and gone,
And the green grass growing over my feet
I wish I was a maid again,
And smiling on my sweetheart's knee,
But a maid again I never shall be,
Till a sweet apple grows on a sour apple tree
The owl the owl, is a lonesome bird,
She fills my heart with dread and terror
That's somebody's blood there on her wing,
That's somebody's blood there on her feather
I wish I wish my baby was born
And sitting on its papa's knee
And me, poor girl, was dead and gone,
And the green grass growing over my feet
This war this war, will it ever cease?
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