Collected by Oma Kilgore For Mary Celestia Parler Transcribed by Oma Kilgore
Sung by Oma Kilgore Fayetteville, Arkansas August 14, 1959
Reel 285-286, Item 4
Put My Little Shoes Away
Mother dear, come bathe my forehead For I'm growing very weak Let one drop of water, mother,
Fall upon my burning cheek.
Tell my loving little playmates That I never more shall play Give them all my toys, mother But put my little shoes away.
Santa Claus 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 And they'll fit his little feet He will look so nice and cunning As he walks along the street.
Mother, now, I'm going to leave you And remember what I say Then oh then my loving mother Put my little shoes away.
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