Hang down your head, Tom Dooley
Hang down your head and cry
Killed poor Laura Foster
You know you're bound to die
You took her on the hillside, as God almighty knows You took her on the hillside and there you hid her clothes You took her by the roadside where there you hid her shoes
You took her by the roadside where you begged to be excused You took her on the hillside to make her your wife
You took her on the hillside where there you took her life At this time tomorrow, it'll be no use to me Take down my old violin and play it as you please
I dug a grave four foot long, I dug it three feet deep
This world and one more then where do you reckon I'd be
And throwed the cold clay o'er her and tramped it with my feet If it hadn't been for Grayson, I'd a-been in Tennessee.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
כל הזכויות שמורות 2022 ©