There grew a fine apple tree over his head, Over his head, over his head; There grew a fine apple tree over his head, Heigh-ho! over his head.
The apples were ripe and they all fell off, All fell off, all fell off; The apples were ripe and they all fell off, Heigh-ho! all fell off.
There came an old woman and picked them all up, Picked them all up, picked them all up; There came an old woman and picked them all up, Heigh-ho! picked them all up.
Sir Roger jumped up and he gave her a push, Gave her a push, gave her a push; Sir Roger jumped up and he gave her a push, Heigh-ho! gave her a push.
Which made the old woman go hickety-hock, Hickety-hock, hickety-hock; Which made the old woman go hickety-hock, Heigh-ho! hickety-hock.
V. Sir Roger is dead and laid in his grave, Hee, haw! laid in his grave. They planted an apple tree over his head, Hee, haw! over his head. The apples are ripe and ready to fall, Hee, haw! ready to fall. There came a high wind and blew them all off, Hee, haw! blew them all off. There came an old woman to pick them all up, Hee, haw! pick them all up. There came a little bird and gave her a tap, Hee, haw! gave her a tap. Which made the old woman go hipperty hop, Hee, haw! hipperty hop.
VI. Poor Johnnie is dead and he lies in his grave, Lies in his grave, lies in his grave; Poor Johnnie is dead and he lies in his grave, He-ho! lies in his grave.
They planted an apple tree over his head, Over his head, over his head; They planted an apple tree over his head, He-ho! over his head.
The apples got ripe and they all fell off, All fell off, all fell off; The apples got ripe and they all fell off, He-ho! all fell off.
Here comes an old woman a-picking them up, A-picking them up, a-picking them up; Here comes an old woman a-picking them up, He-ho! a-picking them up.
Poor Johnnie got up and gave her a thump, And gave her a thump, and gave her a thump; Poor Johnnie got up and gave her a thump, He-ho! gave her a thump.
He made the old woman go hippity-hop, Hippity-hop, hippity-hop! He made the old woman go hippity-hop, He-ho! hippity-hop!
VII. Cock Robin is dead and has gone to his grave; There grew on old apple tree over his head; The apples were ripe and ready to drop, O my, flippity flop!