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Bob Shane/Nick Reynolds/John Stewart
I had a sister Sally, she was younger than I am. Had so many sweethearts, she had to deny them.
But as for sister Sarah, you know she hasn't many. And if you knew her heart, she'd grateful for any.
Come a lands man, a pins man, a tinker or a tailor; doctor, a lawyer, soldier, or sailor.
A rich man, a poor man, a fool or a witty, don't let her die an old maid but take her out of pity.
We had a sister Sally, she was ugly and misshapen. By the time she was sixteen years old she was taken.
By the time she was eighteen, a son and a daughter. Sarah's almost twenty-nine, never had an offer.
She never would be scoldin'. She never would be jealous. Her husband would have money to go to the alehouse.
He was there a-spendin'. She'd be home a-savin' and I leave it up to you if she is not worth havin'.