Here come the sweet potatoes
And here’s the Sunday meat,
I guess we must be ready now
To eat, eat, eat.
I’m going to have the nicey plate
And Daddy’s leather seat,
And wear my patent-leather shoes
To eat, eat, eat.
My Daddy’s talking all about
The war, and some old fleet,
I wonder if he never, never,
Never wants to eat.
We’re going to have some apple-cake,
We’re going to have a treat.
O hurry, hurry, Daddy,
Let us eat, eat, eat.
Leroy F. Jackson