| Under my bed you can set your little satchel
|
| On my head, come lay your little hand
|
| You will be my own true lover
|
| I will be your loving little man
|
| Run to the house and ask your papa
|
| Bride of mine you’ll ever be
|
| If he says no, come back and tell me
|
| And I’ll wait till you’ll get free
|
| When you’ll get free, well then we’ll get married
|
| Look how happy we will be
|
| Or we’ll go to California
|
| Any place you want to go
|
| I wish I was a little angel
|
| Over these prison walls I would fly
|
| Fly back to the arms of my darling
|
| Stay at home and there I would die
|
| As you can see I’m no little angel
|
| Neither have I wings to fly
|
| I’ll go back all brokenhearted
|
| Weep and moan until I die
|
| Under my bed you can set your little satchel
|
| On my head come lay your little hand
|
| You will be my own true lover
|
| I will be your loving little man
|
| Then we’ll get married
|
| Look how happy we will be
|
| Or we’ll go to California |