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Way down in old Kentucky state
'Twas many years ago
I used to hunt the possum and the 'coon
The old folks they would gather round and have a merry dance
While the fiddles and the banjoes were in tune

I'll never, never see again those happy days of yore
And the little doggies rolling on the green
The old folks and my Rosalee a-sittin' round the door
Of my little old oak cabin my the stream

Then the hang up the fiddle and the banjo on the wall
Lay away the bumping tambourine
Angels called away my Rosalee, the sweetest flower of all
From my little old log cabin by the stream.

The little cabin's empty now, and the river's rolling on
And the willows wave above my Rosalee
I sit beside her lonesome grave and cry because she's gone
And wish I had her back again with me

I know that in a better land I'll find my Rosalee
I see her with the angels in my dream
She'll be among that angel band that comes to carry me
From my little old log cabin by the stream

Then the hang up the fiddle and the banjo on the wall
Lay away the bumping tambourine
Angels called away my Rosalee, the sweetest flower of all
From my little old log cabin by the stream.

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