Oh hard is the fortune of all woman kind.|
She's always controlled. She's always confined.
Controlled by her parents until she's a wife,
A slave to her husband the rest of her life.
Oh, I'm just a poor girl my fortune is sad.
I've always been courted by the wagoner’s lad.
He's courted me daily, by night and by day
And now he is loading and going away.
Oh, my parents don't like him because he is poor.
They say he's not worthy of entering my door.
He works for a living, his money's his own
And if they don't like it they can leave him alone.
Oh, your horses are hungry go feed them some hay,
And sit down here by me as long as you may.
My horses ain't hungry they won't eat your hay,
So fare thee well darlin', I'll be on my way.
Oh, your wagon needs greasing your whip is to mend,
And sit down here by me as long as you can.
My wagon is greasy, my whip’s in my hand.
So fare thee well darling, no longer to stand.