| O Peggy Gordon, you are my darling
|
| Come sit you down upon my knee
|
| And tell to me the very reason
|
| Why I am slighted so by thee
|
| I’m so in love that I can’t deny it
|
| My heart lies smothered in my breast
|
| But it’s not for you to let the world know it
|
| A troubled mind can know no rest
|
| I put my head to a glass of brandy
|
| It was my fancy, I do declare
|
| For when I’m drinking, I’m always thinking
|
| And wishing Peggy Gordon was here
|
| I wish I was in some lonesome valley
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| Where womankind cannot be found
|
| Where little birds sing upon the branches
|
| And every moment has a different sound
|
| O Peggy Gordon, you are my darling
|
| Come sit you down upon my knee
|
| And tell me the very reason
|
| Why I am slighted so by thee |