Here is a penny for you, little girl,
Because the nice music came round,
I stood by the window a long long time,
And heard what the hand organ ground.
Is it your papa who grinds out the tunes?
And plays so I dance tippy toe?
Tell him I think he’s a nice music man.
I don’t want him ever to go.
Tell him to come back to-morrow day too,
I’d like him to come every day,
I’ll take all the pennies from my little bank,
And give them to him, if he’ll play.