Bluegrass Ballads

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Last winter was a year, An' we was livin' all alone
In the cabin over thar, An' why he don't come back to me
I think it's monst'ous quar."
She was a pooty five-year-old,
With eyes of deepest blue, An' flossy curls an' dimpled cheeks,
With roses in 'em too. I had some little kids at home,
Just like this battle waif, And now I thanked the Lord above
That they were well and safe.
A minie ball had pierced my arm,
That lay now in a sling; The hurt was just a flesh-cut,
An' the pain a smartish sting, But I had got it fairly,
An' well enough I knew, The helpless arm would take me home
Within a day or two.
So I plead with Rhoda Raglan'
To go along with me, An' maybe we would find her pap
Somewhar in Tennessee.