Oh, dear would you sit?
Oh, dear would you down?
Oh, dear will you put on your paper thin crown?
Make your home the place you are
Let your hair
Go there, and here:
“Oh, how I will welcome my daughter dear.”
Your daughter, her friend;
How happy to be dad!
You’ll bring them all to the flower patched grass,
And there you’ll say in a voice that’s clear,
“I love you dear, but you don’t live near.”
“I don’t live near,” your daughter will utter.
Her friend will squint and shutter and stutter;
She’ll have words that she’ll speak in a way kinda sorta,
But the matter has begun with father and daughter.
You’ll ask her to sit,
You’ll ask her to down,
And away she will go
Leaving crown on the ground.