Apples Peaches And Cherries

Apples... Peaches... Cherries
 A peddler once was driving by
 His cart with fruit was laden high
 and as he drove along he'd cry
 across the village green
 His daughter sat beside him there
 And she was young and she was fair
 A glowing with a beauty rare
 A maid of sweet sixteen
 Crying: apples and peaches and cherries
 We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries
 A young lad followed them to his door
 He bought some fruit and then bought more
 His lonely eyes were begging for
 The lovely maid to stay
 The young maid blushed to see him stare
 His eyes went wandering everywhere
 Until the peddler's cart was bare
 And they drove on their way
 Crying: apples and peaches and cherries
 We got no more apples no more peaches or cherries
 Next day in vain he waited long
 To hear the same familiar song
 The fruit was ripe the girls were all
 The lovely maid passed by
 He sought and found her in the mart
 He wooed and won that maiden's heart
 And now ten children ride the cart
 And there'll be many more
 Screaming, yelling out: apples and peaches and cherries
 We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries
 Now if there is a moral here
 Such fruitfulness will make it clear
 Shut your window when you hear
 A peddler at your door
 He'll be crying: apples and peaches and cherries
 We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries
 Apples... Peaches... and Cherries