As I was walking down the street in Ballymoney yesterday, I saw a paper bag, and it held 2 polythene bags of apples, I first took out my diary, and then whipped out a pen. I wrote — «Paper bag walking down street.» And said, or my ma, she may poop on you.
I took all of the apples, and there was a lot of them. I took all of the apple, and I brought them home to Mummy. She said — «No more, i’ve got enough now, to make an apple pie.» So the dog ran into her, and she dropped all the apples.
(Chorus)
Musha ring dum a doo dum a da
Whack for my paper bag.
Whack for my paper bag.
There’s apples in the bag-o.
Being drunk on cider, I went to my ma’s bedroom.
Taking my apples with me. But I never knew the danger.
My brother was hiding behind the door.
He extended his foot.
I tripped up, went flying, and the apples sent him crying!
(Chorus)
Now some men like the pies and some men like the cider
And some men like to hear, ta hear apples in the bag.But for me, there’s nothing like sleepin’ specially in my orchard.
Well here I am in a factory. A factory that makes paper bags.
(Chorus)
Apples in the bag-o Yeah
Musha ring dum a doo dum a da Musha ring dum a doo dum a da Musha ring dum a doo dum a da Musha ring dum a doo dum a da.