You ought to see my Cindy She lives away down South And she’s so sweet the honey bees Swarm around her mouth 
Chorus Get along home, home, Cindy Get along home Get along home, home, Cindy I’m a-gonna leave you now 
I wish I was an apple A-hangin’ on a tree And every time my Cindy passed She’d take a bite of me 
I wish I was a needle As fine as I could sew I’d sew that gal to my coattail And down the road I’d go 
Cindy got religion She had it once before But when she heard my old banjo She’s the first one on the floor 
The first time I saw Cindy She was standing in the door Her shoes and stockings in her hand Her feet all over the floor 
Cindy went to the preachin’ She swung around and around She got so full of glory She knocked the preacher down 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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