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Down in some lone valley in a lonesome place |
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Where the wild birds all whistle and their notes do increase |
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Farewell Pretty Saro, I must bid you adieu |
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And I'll dream of Pretty Saro wherever I go |
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My love, she won't have me and I understand |
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She wants a rich merchant and I have no land |
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I cannot maintain her, I've no silver and gold |
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Can't give her the nice things that a big house will hold |
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But if I were a merchant and I could write a fine hand |
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Then I'd write my love a letter that she'd understand |
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I'd write it by the river where the waters overflow |
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And I'll dream of Pretty Saro wherever I go |
