| Now come and listen to my story
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| A story that I know is true
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| A little rose that bloomed in Georgia
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| With hair of gold and a heart so true
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| Way down in the blue ridge mountains
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| Way down where the tall pines grow
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| Lives my sweetheart of the mountains
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| She’s my little Georgia rose
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| Her mother left her with another
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| A carefree life she had planned
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| The baby now she is a lady
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| The one her mother couldn’t stand
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| We often sing those songs together
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| I watched her do her little part
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| She smiled at me when I would tell her
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| That she was my sweetheart |