Well I plowed last summer with a one-horn ox And I plowed this fall with a mulie. Whenever I gather my taters and corn I’m going home to Julie. 
CHORUS:
 Whoa back Buck you rare and you snort Trouble wouldn’t buckle and your hang stands short. Couldn’t be an ox ’cause you’re too durn slow, Who made your backband I don’t know. 
(Fiddle, then banjo) 
I plowed my taters with a bull-tongue plow And the Lord never knew such a failin’ The plow hit a stump and Buck gave a jump And kicked me across the pallin. 
CHORUS (Fiddle, then banjo) 
Don’t ever ask me questions boys, I won’t tell you lies. Bring me here some apples son, So Julie can make some pie. CHORUS 
Don’t you ask her questions now, About not havin’ that flour. Or she’ll leave off the ’lasses boys The pies will all be sour. 
CHORUS (Banjo) 
Pa didn’t raise no corn this year Pa didn’t raise no taters. Pa didn’t raise no good string beans, But Holy cow, thetomaters 
CHORUS 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
Visit http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk for more songs