Shool, Shool, &c.
I’ll dye my dress, I’ll dye it red,
All over the world I’ll beg my bread,
So my parents may think me dead—
Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.
Shool, Shool, &c.
We are all so Fond of Kissing.
Oh, kiss me quick and let me go,
Don’t keep me here a waiting,