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i wish, i wish my baby was born
sittin' on her mama's knee
but you, poor girl are dead and gone
and grass is growing over thee

oh i'm not no saint, no i never shall be
'til the sweet apple grows
on a sour apple tree
still i hope that the day will come
when you and i will walk as one

i wish i wish my baby was born
sittin' on her papa's knee
but you poor girl are dead and gone
and grass growing over thee
i wish, i wish my baby was born   sittin' on her mama's knee   but you, poor girl are dead and gone   and grass is growing over thee      oh i'm not no saint, no i never shall be   'til the sweet apple grows   on a sour apple tree   still i hope that the day will come   when you and i will walk as one      i wish i wish my baby was born    sittin' on her papa's knee   but you poor girl are dead and gone   and grass growing over thee