Joe Simpson lost his papa,
But then, you see, he died,
He told me all about it,
And how his mamma cried.
But then, you see, he died,
He told me all about it,
And how his mamma cried.
And I was awfully sorry,
I gave him my new ball,
And my best agate marbles,
And made him keep them all.
I gave him my new ball,
And my best agate marbles,
And made him keep them all.
But I could not console him
With any of my toys;
He'd rather have a father
Like other little boys.
With any of my toys;
He'd rather have a father
Like other little boys.
Why, papa, what's the matter?
Your eyes have got so red,
I do believe you're crying
'Cause Joey's papa's dead.
Your eyes have got so red,
I do believe you're crying
'Cause Joey's papa's dead.
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