Cindy

You ought to see my Cindy,
She lives a-way down South;
And she's so sweet the honey bees
All swarm around her mouth.

Get along home, Cindy, Cindy;
Get along home.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy;
I'll marry you someday.

The first time that I saw her,
She was standin' in the door;
Her shoes and stockings in her hand,
Her feet all over the floor.

Get along home, Cindy, Cindy;
Get along home.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy;
I'll marry you someday.

I wish I was an apple,
A-hangin' on a tree;
And every time my Cindy passed
She'd take a bite of me.

Get along home, Cindy, Cindy;
Get along home.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy;
I'll marry you someday.

American folk song
Midi: Cindy Cindy

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