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Clementine
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In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine,
Dwelt a miner, fortyniner,
And his daughter Clementine.
Chorus:
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling Clementine!
Thou art lost and gone for ever,
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.
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Light she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine;
Herringboxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
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Drove she ducklings, to the water,
Ev’ry morning, just at nine;
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.
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Ruby lips above the water
Blowing bubbles mighty fine
But alas I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.
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In a corner of the churchyard
Where the myrtle boughs entwine,
Grow the roses in their posies,
Fertilised by Clementine.
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Then the miner, fortyniner,
Soon began to peak and pine;
Thought he ought to join his daughter
Now he’s with his Clementine.
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In my dreams she still doth haunt me,
Robed in garments, soaked in brine,
Though in life I used to hug her,
Now she’s dead I draw the line.
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How I missed, her, how I missed her,
How I missed my Clementine!
But I kissed her little sister,
And forgot my Clementine.