Doc Watson - Tom dooley

** ^FHang your head, Tom ^FDooley, ^FHang your head and ^Fcry; ** ^GYou killed poor Laurie ^FFoster, And you know ^Fyou're bound to die. ^F

^FYou left her by the ^Froadside Where you ^Fbegged to be excused; ^{F G}You left her by the r^Foadside, Then you hi^Fd her clothes and sh^Foes.

^FYou took her on the ^Fhillside For to mak^Fe her your wife; ^{F G}You took her on the ^Fhillside, And the^Fre you took her li^Ffe. ^FYou dug the grave f^Four feet long And you^F dug it three feet deep; ^{F G}You rolled the cold clay ^Fover her And tr^Fomped it with your feet. ^F

^F"Trouble, oh ^Fit's trouble A-rollin^F' through my breast; ^{F G}As long as I'm a-^Flivin', boys, They a^Fin't a-gonna let me r^Fest. ^FI know they're gonna ^Fhang me, Tom^Forrow I'll be de^Fad, ^GThough I never even h^Farmed a hair ^FOn poor little Laurie's ^Fhead."

^F"In this world^F and one more^F Then reckon where I'll^F be; ^GIf is wasn't for Sheriff ^FGrayson, I'd be ^Fin Tennesee. ^{F F}You can take down my ol^Fd violin A^Fnd play it all you ^Fplease. ^GFor at this time to^Fmorrow, boys, It'll be of n^Fo use to me.&quo^Ft;

^F"At this tim^Fe to-morrow Whe^Fre do you reckon I'll be^F? ^GAway down yonder in the ^Fholler Ha^Fngin' on a white oak t^Free.