It rained it poured It rained so hard Rained so hard all day Till the boys in our school Come out to talk and play They tossed the ball Again so high Then again so low Till it fell into a flower garden Where’s no one allowed to go When a tipsy gipsy lady Dressed in yellow and green Says come here come here My pretty little boy And get your ball again No I won’t come in Without my playmates all I’m gonna get my father and tell him about it And then the tears shall fall First she offered an apple sweet Then a tangerine Then she offered a diamond That seemed to do the trick that enticed him in She took him by the lilly-white hand and let him through the hall She took him to an upper room Where no one could hear him call No not a soul Bury the bible at my feet The testament at my head If my dear father should call for me Tell him that I am dead Bury the bible at my head The testament at my feet If my dear mother should call for me Tell her that I’m asleepTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.