Please mad’m
c’mon smile
jis look
our little old tents is piled high wit joy

how can mad’m look so sour
shame on you shame
d’you think life’s vinegar
an where’s mad’m buyin it then
cause i bet it’s real expensive

nah, mad’m
c’mon, c’mon smile
look over there
our little old tents is piled high wit joy

This white dame can’t laugh
jis gives orders:
there’s nuthin I want,
the coon formal as hell

But mad’m, pawpaw, pawpaw an banana
an juicy grapes out the heart of Canaan
or maybe the lady would fancy a fig
jis look how swollen it is
plumped right out from top to bottom
don’ blush now mad’m
we got the leaf right here
ja well maybe

I don’ want nuthin hear!

But mad’m

I don’ want nuthin do you hear!

But mad’m

You, you coolie
I'm going to call the cops!

The fruitboy’s voice suddenly muffled
cops, cops?
hey c’mon lady, don’ be so mean
jis say g’bye nicely
hey guess what
them bare-arse ole nec’trines still blowin mad’m a kissie goodbye

The white woman stomps off
across the parade,
clippety-clop, clippety-clop

Hey lady, hey
mad’m sho she don wanna try our guavas
guarantee ’m lady
great f’ the nerves!