Coming Down the Street

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THE baby she has golden hair,

Her cheeks are like a rose,

And she sits fastened in her chair,

A-counting of her toes.

The mother she stands by the door,

And all the place is neat,

She says,”When it is half-past four,

He’ll come along the street.”

And O ! in all this happy world

There’s not a sight so sweet,

As ’tis to see the master, dear,

A-coming down the street.

A-coming O ! a-coming O !

A-coming down the street.

The baby’s sister toddles round,

And sings a little song,

And every word and every sound

Says, “Father won’t be Jong.”

And when he comes we’ll laugh for glee,

And then his bonnie face,

However dark the day may be,

Makes sunshine in the place.

And O ! in all this happy world

There’s not a sight so sweet,

As ’tis to see the master, dear,

A-coming down the street,

A-coming O ! a-coming O !

A-coming down the street.