Oh the praties they grow small over here over here Oh the praties they grow small over here Oh the praties they grow small and we dig them in the fall And we eat them skin and all over here over here Oh I wish that we were geese night and morn' night and morn' Oh I wish that we were geese night and morn' Oh I wish that we were geese for they fly and take their ease And they live and die in peace eating corn eating corn Oh we're trampled in the dust over here over here Oh we're trampled in the dust over here Oh we're trampled in the dust but the Lord in who we trust Will give us crumb for crust over here over here