Texty: Andrews Sisters. Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree.

I wrote my mother, I wrote my father
And now I'm writing you too
I'm sure of mother, I'm sure of father
And now I want to be sure, very, very sure of you

Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me
No, no, no, don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me
Till I come marching home

Don't go walkin' down Lover's Lane with anyone else but me
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me
No, no, no, don't go walkin' down Lover's Lane with anyone else but me
Till I come marching home

I just got word from a guy who heard from the guy next door to me
The girl he met just loves to pet and it fits you to a tee
So, don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me
Till I come marching home

Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me
With anyone else but her, no, no, no, not a single sole but me
No, no, no, don't you sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me
Not till you see me, not until you see me marchin' home
Home, home, home sweet home

Don't go walkin' down Lover's Lane with anyone else but me
With anyone else but her, no, no, no, not a single sole but me
No, no, no, don't you go walkin' down Lover's Lane with anyone else but me
Not till you see me, not until you see me marchin' home
Home, home, home sweet home just wait till I come marching home

So don't go walkin' down to lovers lane, no walkin' down to Lover's Lane
Till you see me, when you see me marchin' home then we'll go arm in arm
And sit down under the apple tree, baby, just you and me
When I come marching home