Hang down your head

Hang down GM-Song

Hang down your head Tom Dooley,
hang down your head and cry,
hang down your head Tom Dooley,
poor boy, you’re bound to die

1. Met her on the mountain,
I swore she’d be my wife,
but the gal refused me,
so I stabbed her with my knife.
Refrain . . .

2. This time come tomorrow,
reckon where I’ll be,
in some lonesome valley
hangin’ from a white oak tree.
Refrain . . .

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