LITTLE JOHNNY JOHNSON IS MY SUNDAY BEAU.
Copyright, MDCCCXCV, by Henry J. Wehman.
Words and Music by Tommy Powers.
I've got a string of fellers, girls, they're kind of stuck on me,
And try to kiss my ruby lips, as they do Daisy Dee;
They "scrap" and black each other's eyes, John Johnson 'mongst the rest;
They'd give a cigarette to know which feller I love best.
Little Johnny Johnson is my Sunday beau;
He buys "slap-jacks" and "bolivars," his love for me to show;
Hokey pokey ice cream, one plate and two spoons;
We "slob" it on our Sunday clothes, like crazy, little loons.
In our parlor on Sunday night, the girls climb in for fun,
And when the bell rings ding-a-ling, for our front door they run,
With Johnny Johnson they shake hands, and grab the candy-box,
But when the girls do open it, they find a pair of socks. -Chorus.
John Johnson is a vocalist, he sings up to high C,
But when he wants to reach that note, he has to climb a tree;
John loves to sing "My Honey O," it is his fondest wish,
But in the middle of the song, the girls do holler "Fish." -Chorus.