American Old Time Song Lyrics: 36 Little Barefoot
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 36
LITTLE BAREFOOT.
Standing where the bleak winds whistled 'round her small and fragile form,
Arms within torn garments nestled, standing there at night and morn;
Hundreds passing by unheeding, 'cept to jostle her aside;
There, with barefeet, cold and bleeding, she, in tones of anguish, cried:
"Mister, please give me a penny, for I've not got any pa;
Please, sir, give me just one penny, I want to buy some bread for ma."
Chorus.
While we beg for those with plenty, and for them to us unknown.
We'll not forget our little "barefoots," they are heathens nearer home.
Hailing thus each passing stranger, as they hurriedly went by,
some would turn and gaze upon her, pity beaming from their eye;
Others cast a frown upon her, heeding not the plaintive cry:
"I must have some bread for mother, or with hunger she will die;
Mister, please give me a penny, for I've not got any pa;
Please, sir, give me just one penny, I want to buy some bread for ma."-Cho.
There, one chilly day in Winter, Barefoot sat upon the pave;
Outstretched were her little fingers, but no pennys did she crave-
There, while begging bread for mother, death had chilled her little heart.
Yet, each day, we see some other playing little Barefoot's part:
"Mister, please give me a penny, for I've not got any pa;
Please, sir, give me just one penny, I want to buy some bread for ma." -Cho.