{t:On Top Of Old Smokey}
{st:Traditional folk song}
*{c:¾ time 1, 2, 3 / 1 2, 3 / … }
On [G]top of old [C]Smokey, all covered with [G]snow,
I lost my true [D7]lover from courting too [G]slow.
Now, [G]courting is [C]pleasure and parting is [G]grief,
And a false-hearted [D7]lover is worse than a [G]thief.
For a [G]thief will just [C]rob you and take what you [G]have,
But a false-hearted [D7]lover will lead you to the [G]grave.
And the [G]grave will de-[D7]cay you and turn you to [G]dust;
Not one boy in a [D7]hundred a poor girl can [G]trust.
They'll [G]hug you and [C]kiss you and tell you more [G]lies,
Than cross ties on a [D7]railroad or stars in the [G]skies.
So, come [G]all you young [C]maidens and listen to [G]me,
Never place your af-[D7]fection on a green willow [G]tree.
For the [G]leaves they will [C]whither, and the roots they will [G]die,
You'll all be for-[D7]saken and never know [G]why.
{t:On Top Of Old Smokey}
