Oh, the praties they are small, over here, over here!
Oh, the praties they are small and we dig them in the fall,
And we eat them coats and all, over here, over here.

Oh, I wish that we were geese, night and morn, night and morn!
Oh, I wish that we were geese and could live our lives in peace
Till the hour of their release, eating corn, eating corn.

And we plead night and day

Till the hour of our release

Oh, we're down into the dust, over here, over here!
Oh, we're down into the dust, but the Lord in whom we trust,
Will repay us crumb for crust, over here, over here!

And we plead night and day

Till the hour of our release