| «Get down, get down, Love Henry,» she cried
|
| «And stay all night with me
|
| I have gold chains, and the finest I have
|
| I’ll apply them all to thee.»
|
| «I can’t get down and I shan’t get down
|
| Or stay all night with thee
|
| Some pretty little girl in Cornersville
|
| I love far better than thee.»
|
| He layed his head on a pillow of down
|
| Kisses she gave him three
|
| With a penny knife that she held in her hand
|
| She murdered mortal he
|
| Instrumental
|
| «Get well, get well, Love Henry, «She cried
|
| «Get well, get well,» said she
|
| «Oh don’t you see my own heart’s blood
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| Come flowin' down so free?»
|
| She took him by his long yellow hair
|
| And also by his feet
|
| She plunged him into well water, where
|
| It runs both cold and deep
|
| «Lie there, lie there, Love Henry,» she cried
|
| «Til the flesh rots off your bones
|
| Some pretty little girl in Cornersville
|
| Will mourn for your return.»
|
| Instrumental
|
| «Hush up, hush up, my parrot,» she cried
|
| «And light on my right knee
|
| The doors to your cage shall be decked with gold
|
| And hung on a willow tree.»
|
| «I won’t fly down, I can’t fly down
|
| And light on your right knee
|
| A girl who would murder her own true love
|
| Would kill a little birdlike me.» |