Apples Peaches and Cherries

Apples... Peaches... Cherries

A peddler once was driving by
His cart with fruit was laden high
and as he drove along he'd cry
across the village green

His daughter sat beside him there
And she was young and she was fair
A glowing with a beauty rare
A maid of sweet sixteen

Crying: apples and peaches and cherries
We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries

A young lad followed them to his door
He bought some fruit and then bought more
His lonely eyes were begging for
The lovely maid to stay

The young maid blushed to see him stare
His eyes went wandering everywhere
Until the peddler's cart was bare
And they drove on their way

Crying: apples and peaches and cherries
We got no more apples no more peaches or cherries

Next day in vain he waited long
To hear the same familiar song
The fruit was ripe the girls were all
The lovely maid passed by

He sought and found her in the mart
He wooed and won that maiden's heart
And now ten children ride the cart
And there'll be many more

Screaming, yelling out: apples and peaches and cherries
We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries

Now if there is a moral here
Such fruitfulness will make it clear
Shut your window when you hear
A peddler at your door

He'll be crying: apples and peaches and cherries
We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries

Apples... Peaches... and Cherries