| I wrote my mother, I wrote my father
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| And now I’m writing you too
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| I’m sure of mother, I’m sure of father
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| And now I want to be sure
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| Very, very sure
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| Of you
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| Don’t sit under the apple tree
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| With anyone else but me Anyone else but me, anyone else but me No, no, no Don’t sit under the apple tree
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| With anyone else but me Till I come marching home
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| Don’t go walkin' down Lovers' Lane
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| With anyone else but me Anyone else but me, anyone else but me No, no, no Don’t go walkin' down Lover’s Lane
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| With anyone else but me Till I come marching home
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| I just got word from a girl who heard
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| From the girl next door to me The boy she met just loves to pet
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| And it fits you to a tee
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| So don’t sit under the apple tree
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| With anyone else but me Till I come marching home
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| Don’t sit under the apple tree
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| With anyone else but me
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| (With anyone else but her)
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| No, no, no Not a single sole but me No, no, no Don’t you sit under the apple tree
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| With anyone else but me Not till you see me Not until you see me marchin' home
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| Home, home, home sweet home
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| Don’t go walkin' down Lovers' Lane
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| With anyone else but me-ee
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| (With anyone else but her)
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| No, no, no Not a single sole but me No, no, no Don’t you go walkin' down Lover’s Lane
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| With anyone else but me Not till you see me Not until you see me marchin' home
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| Home, home, home sweet home
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| Just wait till I come marching home
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| So don’t go walkin' down to Lovers' Lane
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| No walkin' down to Lover’s Lane
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| Till you see me, when you see me marchin' home
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| Then we’ll go arm in arm
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| And sit down under the apple tree
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| Baby, just you and me When I come marching home |