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"Boys and girls, come out to play."
OYS and girls, oh, hurry away, The flare of fire is bright as day; Come with a shriek and come with a cry, Come though in terror, come lest you die; Lose your supper, and lose your sleep, Join the fleeing ones in the street.
Feet of children, you ne'er shall go
Germans have a care,
Whisper low, for they may hear,
“Diddle diddle, dumpling, my son John
OCH! Hoch! Hoch! the Kaiser's son Went to bed with his stockings on, Drunk with white wine, and with redNot his the wine, nor yet the bed.
Hoch! Hoch! Hoch! now had you thought
Hoch! Hoch! Hoch! the Kaiser's son;
"To market, to market."
(New rhymes, but old arguments for those Americans who to-day believe in "business as usual.")
market, to market,
The cotton boll's bursting,
of that bridle,
I don't understand you,
While we're bent on gain"?
Your son is a soldier.
What? Mine is for Peace;