Run Jeannie Run

I was born a-way back in the hills in a shack
The oldest child of ten
On one hot and sultry day, Mama got sick and passed away
Giving birth to baby brother Ben

I stood there and I cried as I watched my mama die
I guess I was too young to understand
Papa didn't shed a tear or even really seem to care
I thought it was because he was a man

When Mama was laid to rest
Pa said, "Jeannie, do your best
I'm leaving, but I won't be gone long"

The town was many miles away
Where Papa seemed to want to stay
So soon after Mama had gone

Then it was work, Jeannie, work, Jeannie, work, Jeannie, work
The hard times had just begun
Yes, it's work, Jeannie, work, Jeannie, work, Jeannie, work
For Jeannie, there was no fun

Papa started drinking wine
And chasing women all the time
And living off the fat of the land
We children did the best we could
Milked the cows and chopped the wood
And ate what mama left us canned

One day the sheriff walked in
To notify the next of kin
Papa was run over by a train

It had been almost a year since Papa left us here
We were sorry, but really felt no pain
The sheriff said that day children can't live this way
Said he'd send someone to take us into town

That night I said goodbye
My little brothers and sisters cried
But I ran away so far, I'd not be found

And now it's run, Jeannie, run, Jeannie, run, Jeannie, run
Jeannie's gonna find some fun
Yes, it's run, Jeannie, run, Jeannie, run, Jeannie, run
Run and find you some fun
Yes, it's run, Jeannie, run, Jeannie, run, Jeannie—