The higher up the berry tree the sweeter grows the berry

The more you hug and kiss a gal the more she wants to marry

The berry tree's a wise old tree the sweetest fruit is his'n

But marryin' up with any gal is just like goin' to prison

(Bridge)

Peaches in the summertime, apples in the fall

Till I find the gal I want, a'gonna have none at all

Cause higher up the berry tree the sweeter grows the berry

The more you hug and kiss a gal the more she wants to marry