Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree - Harry James, The Andrews Sisters

I wrote my mother, I wrote my father

And now I’m writing you too

I’m sure of mother, I’m sure of father

And now I want to be sure, very, very sure of you

Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me

Anyone else but me, anyone else but me, no, no, no

Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me

Till I come marching home

Don’t go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me

Anyone else but me, anyone else but me, no, no, no

Don’t go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me

Till I come marching home

I just got word from a guy who heard

From the guy next door to me

The girl he met just loves to pet

And it fits you to a «T»

So don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me

Till I come marching home,

Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me

(With anyone else but her)

No, no, no, not a single soul but

No, no, no, don’t you sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me

Not till you see me, not until you see me marching home

Home, home, home, home sweet home

Don’t go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me

(With anyone else but her)

No, no, no, not a single soul but

No, no, no, don’t you go walking down lovers' lane

With anyone else but me

Not till you see me, not until you see me marching home

Home, home, home, home sweet home

Just wait till I come marching home

No, don’t go walking down lovers' lane

No, walking down lovers' lane till you see

When you see me marching home

Then we’ll go arm in arm and

Sit down under the apple tree

Baby, just you and me

When I come marching home