Из альбома: Tragic Songs of Life
I met a liitle girl in Knoxville, a town we all know well,
And every Sunday evening, out in her home I'd dwell,
We went to take an evening walk about a mile from town,
I picked a stick up off the ground and knocked that fair girl down.
She fell down on her bended knees for mercy she did cry,
Oh Willy dear don't kill me here, I'm unprepared to die,
She never spoke another word, I only beat her more,
Until the ground around me within her blood did flow.
I took her by her golden curls and I drug her round and around,
Throwing her into the river that flows through Knoxville town,
Go down, go down, you Knoxville girl with the dark and rolling eyes,
Go down, go down, you Knoxville girl, you can never be my bride.
I started back to Knoxville, got there about midnight,
My Mother she was worried and woke up in a fright,
Saying Dear son, what have you done to bloody your clothes so?
I told my anxious Mother, I was bleeding at my nose.
I called for me a candle to light myself to bed,
I called for me a hankerchief to bind my aching head,
Rolled and tumbled the whole night throught, as troubles was for me,
Like flames of hell around my bed and in my eyes could see.
They carried me down to Knoxville and put me in a cell,
My friends all tried to get me out but none could go my bail,
I'm here to waste my life away down in this dirty old jail,
Because I murdered that Knoxville girl, the girl I loved so well.