Old Molly is lowing and lowing
’Way down in the old meadow lot.
I’ve given her water and clover,
And all of the apples I’ve got;
But she won’t eat a thing that I give her,
And never drinks even a sup,
For they’ve taken her baby to market
And some one has eaten it up.
I’d just like to go to the city
And cut them all up into halves
And feed them to sharks and to lions
Those people that eat little calves.