Shool, Shool, &c.
I’ll sell my frock, I’ll sell my wheel,
I’ll buy my love a sword of steel,
So in the battle he may reel,—
Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.
Shool, Shool, &c.
I wish I was on yonder hill,
It’s there I’d sit and cry my fill,
So every tear may turn a mill,—
Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.