I wouldn’t have her know,
But I tore up the tomato
Trying my bran-new hoe.
Ever quarrel? Why, no, I guess not.
Sometimes she won’t play fair,
And once I got out of patience,
And bit her and pulled her hair.
But she cried so hard, I tell you
I was sorry as could be;
And, well, I—I—I kissed her,