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He use to sing his songs to his Sara Jane, |
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The folk singer, |
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His songs filled with love made the mountains ring, |
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To the folk singer, |
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At first Sara Jane was to be his bride, |
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But as his fame grew she was pushed aside, |
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So the mountain girl would say good-bye, |
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To the folk singer, |
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He let his hair grow long and he dressed in style, |
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The folk singer, |
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His voice was pure and the fans went wild, |
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For the folk singer, |
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He said Sara Jane was much too plain, |
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So he left her alone as grew more fame, |
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But sorrow will come like a mountain rain, |
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To the folk singer, |
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Lavished in glory, fortune at his feet, |
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The folk singer, |
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Awoke one morning and he couldn't speak, |
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The folk singer, |
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The doctor said his singing days were through, |
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Thousands wept, Sara Jane did too, |
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He could not sing now his friends were few, |
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The folk singer, |
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Sick at heart in the mountains again, |
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The folk singer, |
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Now Sara Jane didn't look so plain, |
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To the folk singer, |
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Oh the power of love can do strange things, |
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Cause love has made him sing again, |
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only now he sings for his Sara Jane, |
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The folk singer, |
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And once again the mountains ring, |
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To the folk singer, |
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The folk singer, |
|
The folk singer. |
