Collected by Marvin Wallace For Mary C. Parler Transcribed by Frances Majors
Sung by Buck Buttery Lincoln, Arkansas August 19, 1958
Reel 282, Item 1
Put My Little Shoes Away
Mother, dear, come bathe my forehead; I’m growing very weak;
Let one drop of water, Mother,
Fall upon my burning cheek.
Tell my darling little playmates That I never more will play;
Give them all my toys, but, Mother, Put my little shoes away.
Santa Clause, he brought them to me With a lot of other things;
And I think he brought an angel With a pair of golden wings.
Soon the baby will be larger;
Then they’ll fit his little feet.
Oh, he’ll look so nice and cunning As he walks along the street.
Mother, soon I’ll be an angel,
By perhaps another day.
So you will, my sweetest mother,
Put my little shoes away.
Click tabs to swap between content that is broken into logical sections.