Freckle face, freckle face,
we don't want you around this place.
If I were you, straight home I'd go
and wash my face with Sapolio.
Freckle face, freckle face,
your face is a real disgrace.
You think you're a lot,
but you've only got
a freckled face.

Years flew along, the little boys grew.
The good looking one and the freckled one too.
Each still in love with the dear little maid,
who wore puffs and curls and no longer a braid.
She wasn't quite sure which one she would take.
If she took one, would the other's heart break.
She wasn't quite sure 'til she thought of the day
when the nice looking one was so mean as to say.

Chorus...

And she married the freckled face boy.