Old Smokey

On top of Old Smokey

All covered with snow

I lost my true lover

For a courting too slow.

For courting is a pleasure

And parting is grief

And a false hearted lover

Is worse than a thief.

A thief will just rob you

And take all you have

But a false hearted lover

Will lead you to the grave.

The grave will decay you

And turn you to dust

Not one boy in a hundred

A poor girl can trust.

They'll hug you and kiss you

And tell you more lies

Than cross-ties on a railroad

Or stars in the sky.

So come all young maidens

And listen to me

Never place your affections

On a green willow tree.

The roots they will wither

The leaves they will die

You'll all be forsaken

And never know why.

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