I wish I wish my baby was born
And sitting on its papa's knee,
And me, poor girl, was dead and gone,
And the green gra** growing over my feet
I wish I was a maid again,
And smiling on my sweetheart's knee,
But a maid again I never shall be,
Till a sweet apple grows on a sour apple tree
The owl the owl, is a lonesome bird,
She fills my heart with dread and terror
That's somebody's blood there on her wing,
That's somebody's blood there on her feather
I wish I wish my baby was born
And sitting on its papa's knee
And me, poor girl, was dead and gone,
And the green gra** growing over my feet
This war this war, will it ever cease?