Make fun of me, baby.

1. Clear it out, my baby, clear it up, my baby, the main street of the lower town, ; Where I walk, where I walk, every evening to you. ; Because the big mud jumps up the shaft of my boots, ; And from there, and from there to the shaft of my trousers. ; ; 2. Do you see, my baby, do you see, my baby, that big mountain over there? ; As long as it is there, as long as it is there, I will not be yours. ; I will carry that mountain in the four corners of my handkerchief, ; Still yours, still yours, my dear dove.