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I wrote my mother, I wrote my father |
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And now I'm writing you too |
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I'm sure of mother, I'm sure of father |
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And now I want to be sure, very, very sure of you |
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Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me |
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Anyone else but me, anyone else but me, no, no, no |
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Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me |
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Till I come marching home |
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Don't go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me |
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Anyone else but me, anyone else but me, no, no, no |
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Don't go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me |
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Till I come marching home |
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I just got word from a guy who heard |
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From the guy next door to me |
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The girl he met just loves to pet |
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And it fits you to a "T" |
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So don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me |
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Till I come marching home |
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Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me |
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(With anyone else but her) |
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No, no, no, not a single soul but |
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No, no, no, don't you sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me |
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Not till you see me, not until you see me marching home |
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Home, home, home, home sweet home |
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Don't go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me |
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(With anyone else but her) |
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No, no, no, not a single soul but |
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No, no, no, don't you go walking down lovers' lane |
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With anyone else but me |
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Not till you see me, not until you see me marching home |
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Home, home, home, home sweet home |
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Just wait till I come marching home |
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No, don't go walking down lovers' lane |
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No, walking down lovers' lane till you see |
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When you see me marching home |
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Then we'll go arm in arm and |
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Sit down under the apple tree |
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Baby, just you and me |
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When I come marching home |
