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There once was a lass from the low country |
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Who loved her a lord of high degree |
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She loved her lordship so tenderly |
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Sing Sorrow....Sing Sorrow |
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Now she sleeps in the valley |
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Where the wildflowers nod |
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No one knew she loved him |
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But herself and God |
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One day when the sun was on the mead |
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He passed her doorstep on a milk-white steed |
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She smiled and she spoke but he paid no heed |
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Sing Sorrow...Sing Sorrow |
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Now she sleeps in the valley |
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where the wildflowers nod |
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No one knew she loved him |
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but herself and God |
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Now, if you be a lass from the low country |
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Don't you love you no lordship of high degree |
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They Ain't got no heart or no sympathy |
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Sing Sorrow...Sing Sorrow |
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Now she sleeps in the valley |
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Where the wildflowers nod |
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No one knew she loved him |
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But herself and God |
