GO TELL AUNT RHODY
(a sad and dismal but perennial favorite for some reason; learned in the 1940s)
Go tell Aunt Rhody,
The one that she's been savin',///
She died in the millpond///
The goslin's are cryin'///
The gander is weepin'///
(repeat first verse)
(from miriam berg's folksong collection)
Go tell Aunt Rhody,
Go tell Aunt Rhody
That the old grey goose is dead.
To make a feather bed.
Standin' on her head.
Because their mama's dead.
Because his wife is dead.