John Cook had a little gray mare,

a
John Cook had a little gray mare,
He, haw, hum!
Her back stood up and her bones were bare,
He, haw, hum!

b
John Cook was riding up Shooter's Bank,
He, haw, hum!
And there his nag did kick and prank,
He, haw, hum!

c
John Cook was riding up Shooter's Hill,
He, haw, hum!
His mare fell down and she made her will,
He, haw, hum!

d
The bridle and saddle he laid on the shelf,
He, haw, hum!
If you want any more you may sing it your self.
He, haw, hum!