| Oh, hard is the fortune of all woman kind
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| She’s always controlled, she’s always confined
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| Controlled by her parents until she’s a wife
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| A slave to her husband the rest of her life
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| Oh, I’m just a poor girl my fortune is sad
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| I’ve always been courted by the Wagoner’s lad
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| He’s courted me daily, by night and by day
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| And now he is loading and going away
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| Oh, my parents don’t like him because he is poor
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| They say he’s not worthy of entering my door
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| He works for a living, his money’s his own
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| And if they don’t like it they can leave him alone
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| Oh, your horses are hungry, go feed them some hay
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| Then sit down here by me as long as you may
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| My horses ain’t hungry, they won’t eat your hay
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| So fare thee well darlin' I’ll be on my way
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| Oh, your wagon needs greasing your whip is to mend
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| Then sit down here by me as long as you can
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| My wagon is greasy, my whip’s in my hand
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| So fare thee well darlin', no longer to stand |