| The sheep’s in the meadow
|
| The cow’s in the corn
|
| Now is the time for a child to be born
|
| He’ll laugh at the moon
|
| And cry for the sun
|
| And if it’s a boy he’ll carry a gun
|
| Sang the crow on the cradle
|
| And if it should be that this baby’s a girl
|
| Never you mind if her hair doesn’t curl
|
| With rings on her fingers
|
| And bells on her toes
|
| And a bomber above her wherever she goes
|
| Sang the crow on the cradle
|
| The crow on the cradle
|
| The black and the white
|
| Somebody’s baby is born for a fight
|
| The crow on the cradle
|
| The white and the black
|
| Somebody’s baby is not coming back
|
| Sang the crow on the cradle
|
| Your mother and father will sweat and they’ll save
|
| To build you a coffin and dig you a grave
|
| Hush-a-bye little one, never you weep
|
| For we’ve got a toy that can put you to sleep
|
| Sang the crow on the cradle
|
| Bring me my gun, and I’ll shoot that bird dead
|
| That’s what your mother and father once said
|
| The crow on the cradle, what can we do Ah, this is a thing that I’ll leave up to you
|
| Sang the crow on the cradle
|
| Sang the crow on the cradle |