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Well there was an old farmer who lived down in Spain
He had a young servant pretty Molly by name
He had a young servant well, you know what I mean
Oh, he wanted to thrash on her thrashing machine
Now what about your missus? Miss Molly did say
Oh, to hell with the missus she's down makin' hay
She's down makin' hay where the grass is so green
While you and I thrash on your thrashing machine
Now one morning this farmer not meanin' no harm
He invited Miss Molly down back of the barn
He invited Miss Molly well, you know what I mean
Oh, he wanted to thrash on her thrashing machine
Now, the summer was over and winter came on
And pretty Miss Molly was lookin' so worn
she said to the farmer "You've treated me mean,
You dumped all your oats in my thrashing machine"
Well, come all ye young maidens and listen to me
Don't let an old farmer an inch 'bove your knee
For if he can use a pitchfork in between
He will want to go thrashing on your thrashing machine