On top of old Smoky, all covered with snow,
I lost my true lover for courting so slow.
For courting's a pleasure, but parting is grief
And the false hearted lover is worse than a thief.
A thief will just rob you and take what you have
But a false hearted lover will lead you to the grave.
And the grave will decay you and turn you to dust
Not one boy in a hundred a poor girl can trust.
They'll hug you and kiss you, tell you more lies
than cross ties on a railroad or the stars in the sky.
So come all you young maidens and listen to me
Never place your affection on a green willow tree.
For the leaves they will wither and roots they will die
You'll all be forsaken and never know why.