I am a girl of constant sorrow I've seen trouble all my days I bid farewell to old Kentucky The place where I was born and raised
My mother, how I hated to leave her Mother dear, now she is dead But I had to go and leave her So my children could have bread
Perhaps, dear friends, you're a wondering What the miners eat and wear This question I will try to answer For I think that it is fair
For breakfast we have bulldog gravy* For dinner we have beans and bread For the miners don't have any supper Just a tick of straw that we call a bed
For our clothes be always ragged And our feet be always bare And I'm sure if there's a heaven That the miners will be there
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