Ain’t got money,
Thinks that rich folks all dress funny,
Says that nature’s all he needs
And a pocket full of apple seeds.
Ain’t got a home,
Travels the country all alone,
Spends his days roaming free,
And sleeps beneath an apple tree.
Ain’t got a wife,
But he’ll keep lookin’ all his life
For a girl who loves to make
Steaming cider and apple cake.
Ain’t got much.
He hasn’t use for things and such,
But Johnny’s happy as you or me
When he plants an apple tree.
Paper Crown Studios