| On top of old Smokey
|
| All covered with snow
|
| I lost my true lover
|
| For a courting to slow
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| Yes courting’s a pleasure
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| And parting is grief
|
| And a false hearted lover
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| Is worse than a thief
|
| She’ll kiss you, she’ll hug you
|
| And tell you more lies
|
| Than the cross ties on a railroad
|
| Or the stars in the sky
|
| Let me tell you 'bout my baby
|
| She’s like bad brandy wine
|
| The first time I kissed her
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| She drove me out my mind
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| She’s a Baltimore special
|
| Got a fine brown frame
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| When you see her in motion
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| Evil woman is her name
|
| Did I tell you 'bout the Eastman
|
| Lord what a shame
|
| He run off with my baby
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| And scandalized my name
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| Well I went up on a mountain top
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| To call my baby back
|
| She was gone with that Eastman
|
| Down that lonesome railroad track
|
| If I ever see that Eastman
|
| I’ll shoot him with my gun
|
| I’ll cut him with my long Jones
|
| And dare that pimp to run
|
| Little Liza, little Liza
|
| I couldn’t sleep last night
|
| Come on back home baby
|
| Everything will be all right
|
| Let me tell you, let me tell you
|
| I don’t care what you say
|
| If my woman ever comes back
|
| I’ll give my life away
|
| If you ever see a dark cloud
|
| A-rollin' in the sky
|
| It’s my woman gone to heaven
|
| With a tear drop in her eye
|
| On top of old Smokey
|
| All covered with snow
|
| I lost my true lover
|
| For a-courting to slow… |