Sung by: Fleecy Fox
Recorded in Pangburn, AR 7/29/63

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The blackest crow . . .
(Fox: "I'm fouled up.")

The time draws near, my dearest dear,
When you and I shall part.
The grief and woe you soon must know,
Of my poor troubled heart.

I wish that I could go with you,
Or you could tarry here,
Your company, my dearest dear,
So charming unto me.

It makes me think when you’re away
That every day is three,
But every day is three, true love,
And every hour is ten.

It makes me weep when I should sleep,
And say I’ve lost a friend.

The blackest crow, my dearest dear,
Soon shall turn to white.
If ever I prove false to you,
Bright day shall turn to night.

Bright day shall turn to night, true love;
The elements shall mourn.
If ever I prove false to you,
The rugged sea shall burn.

Also found in Randolph, Vol. IV, #760, “I Love You Well.”

All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted

The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection
Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas
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