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Well marry me

To a loop and a tree

What that ol' judge called the first degree

And all the folks around town

Swore to lay me

In the ground

They found out I put that poor boy down

You see I

Did not much care

For the way

That he'd sit and glare

So I closed

His eyes for good

With a bar-room chair

So gonna lay my poor bones

Past Appalachian stones

Far beneath that cold ground all alone

Oh but if you're asking me

Where I would rather be

It was worth it

To see that boy

Cut from the knees

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