Famine Song
Traditional
Oh the praties, they are small
Over here, over here
Oh the praties, they are small
And we dig them in the fall
And we eat them skins and all
Over here, over here
Oh we wish that we were geese
Night and morn, night and morn
Oh we wish that we were geese
We could live our lives in peace
Till the hour of our release
Eating corn, eating corn
Oh we're down into the dust
Over here, over here
Oh we're down into the dust
But the Lord in whom we trust
Will repay us crumb and crust
Over here, over here
