Right Up the Middle (Kipper Family) As I walked out one June morning; One June morning so early. Twas there I spied a fair pretty maid, Just as her skirt was a rising. With me rhubarb pie, On the fiddle I, Right up the middle I go, Her stocking white her skirt was tight, Her suspenders shone like silver. She had a dark and a rolling eye, And another one quite similar. How old are you my fair pretty maid, How old are you my honey? I know you sort was her retort, And I'm not sixteen till Sunday. Will you take a man my fair pretty maid, Will you take a man my honey bright? She answered me most cheerfully, I dare not but my mommy might. So I went down to her mommy's house, Were a red light shone so clearly. But the girl come down and she let me in, And I laid in her arms till the morning. Oh soldier will you marry me, For I will have no one else. Oh no said I that just can not be, For I'm not sixteen myself. Copyright Dambuster Records JY
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!