Something like this:

Sunday, April 15, 2007


Another fiddler.
I am a man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I did farewell to old Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised

For six long years I've been in trouble
No pleasure here here on earth I find
For in this world I'm bound to ramble
I have no friends to help me now

It's fare thee well my own true lover
I never expect to see you again
For I'm bound to ride that Northern railroad
Perhaps I'll die upon, this train

You can bury me in some deep valley
For many years where I may lay
Then you may learn to love another
While I am sleeping in my grave

It's fare you well to a native country
The places I have loved so well
For I have seen all kinds of trouble
In this cruel world no together can tell

Maybe your friends think I'm a stranger
My face your'll never see no more
But there is one promise trhat is given
I'll meet you on God's golden shore

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