Sung by: Berry Sutterfield
Recorded in Big Flat, AR 8/20/59

Click here to listen to the original recording

Hard is the fortune of poor womenkind.
They're always controlled,
And they're always confined.
They're bound to their parents
Until they're made wives,
And then they're made slaves all
The rest of their lives.

These boys, they'll go courting;
They'll dress up so fine.
To cheat these poor girls
Out of their own heart's design.
They'll keep these poor girls up
'Til they're almost ready to die.
They'll raise up and say, "Boys,
I wish you'd go 'way."
"Before I'll go 'way,
I'll go lie in your barn,"
Like some false-hearted lover,
All puffed up in scorn.

They'll rise up next morning,
They'll brush off the straw,
They'll saddle up their horses,
And away they will ride,
Like some false-hearted lover,
All puffed up in pride.

They'll come home and they'll stagger
And they'll reel.
Oh, God bless these poor girls,
How bad I do feel.

I wish I was single;
I'd court none at all.
I'd keep Bachelor's hall;
For a desire it is the best.
No wife to scold,
No children to squall.
Let a man be drunk or sober,
He's always at his rest.

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

The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection
Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas
Back to the Song Index
Back to the Wolf Collection Homepage
©Copyright 2002 Lyon College