My Eppie I trow.
LITTLE BILLY.
Now little Billy is gone to the kirk,
And so merrily he doth sing:
I catch’d the parson in bed with my mother,
But I woud’nt tell it for any thing.
Thou art a liar, says Mess John,
I never did thy mother no harm:
My Eppie I trow.
Now little Billy is gone to the kirk,
And so merrily he doth sing:
I catch’d the parson in bed with my mother,
But I woud’nt tell it for any thing.
Thou art a liar, says Mess John,
I never did thy mother no harm: