clementine

Oh, my darling, oh, my darling, oh my darling, Clementine. You are lost and gone for ever, dreadful sorry, Clementine.

In a cavern, in a canyon, excavating for a mine. Dwelt a miner, forty-nine and his daughter Clementine.

Light the was and like a fairy and her shoes were number nine. Herring boxes without tops-es, sandals were for clementine.

Drove she ducklings to the water, every morning, just at nine. Hit her foot against a splinter, fell into the foaming brine.

Saw her lips above the water, blowing bubbles, mighty fine. But alas! I was no swimmer, so I lost my Clementine.

In a dream she still does haunt me, robed in garments, soaked in brine. Though in life I used to hug her, now she’s dead I’ll draw the line.

How I missed her, how I missed her, how I missed my Clementine. But I kissed her little sister, and forgot my Clementine.

Oh, my darling, oh, my darling, oh my darling Clementine. You are lost and gone for ever, dreadful sorry, Clementine.