| I am a man of constant sorrow
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| I’ve seen trouble all my days
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| I bid farewell to old Kentucky
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| The place where I was born and raised.
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| For six long years I’ve been in trouble
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| No pleasure here on earth I find
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| For in this world I’m bound to ramble
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| I have no friends to help me now.
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| It’s fare thee well my own true lover
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| I never expect to see you again
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| For I’m bound to ride that Northern railroad
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| Perhaps I’ll die upon this train.
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| You can bury me in some deep valley
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| For many years where I may lay
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| Then you may learn to love another
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| While I am sleeping in my grave.
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| It’s fare you well to a native country
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| The places I have loved so well
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| For I have seen all kinds of trouble
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| In this cruel world no tongue can tell.
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| Maybe your friends think I’m a stranger
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| My face your’ll never see no more
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| But there is one promise that is given
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| I’ll meet you on God’s golden shore… |