And there he fell sick amongst 'em all,
With my heigh down, ho down,
Hum, Ha!
Old Father Cungell was car-ri-ed home,
Hum, ha! car-ri-ed home;
Before he got there he was as dead as a stone,
With my heigh down, ho down,
Hum, Ha!
Old Father Cungell was in the grave laid,
They covered him up with shovel and spade,
And out of his grave there grew a big tree
That bore the best apples that ever ye see!
Before they were ripe and fit for the fall,
There came an old woman and stole them off all;
Her gown it was red, her petticoat green,
The very worst woman that ever was seen.