Blessed are the forgetful

None was nearer, none was dearer,

Since the days of forty-nine,

When, in youth, he had another,

Who was then his Clementine.

Drove she ducklings to the water

Every morning just at nine,

Hit her foot against a splinter,

Fell into the foaming brine

Oh my darling, oh my darling,

My darling Clementine,

You are lost for me forever,

Dear sweet darling, Clementine.