The old ragman,
Would come down our street.
With the clop, clop, clop,
Of his horses feet.

His wagon was full,
Of all kinds of things.
AAAREX, AAAREX,
You would hear him sing.

The lady would say,
I want ten cents.
He would smile and give her,
Ten one cents.

And when he left,
We would hitch a ride.
On the back of his wagon,
We would try to hide.

He would holler and yell,
And crack his whip.
"Get off my wagon."
But never hit.

Those were the good old
Days, gone bye,
Forever lost,
That was our high.