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The Folk Singer
He use to sing his songs to his Sara Jane, The
folk singer, His songs filled with love made the
mountains ring, To the
folk singer, At first Sara Jane was to be his bride, But as his fame grew she was pushed aside, So the
mountain girl would say good-bye, To the
folk singer, He let his hair grow long and he dressed in style, The
folk singer, His voice was pure and the
fans went wild, For the
folk singer, He said Sara Jane was much too plain, So he left her alone as grew more fame, But sorrow will come like a
mountain rain, To the
folk singer, Lavished in glory, fortune at his feet, The
folk singer, Awoke one morning and he couldn't speak, The
folk singer, The
doctor said his singing days were through, Thousands wept, Sara Jane did too, He could not sing now his friends were few, The
folk singer, Sick at heart in the
mountains again, The
folk singer, Now Sara Jane didn't look so plain, To the
folk singer, Oh the
power of love can do strange things, Cause love has made him sing again, Only now he sings for his Sara Jane, The
folk singer, And once again the
mountains ring, To the
folk singer, The
folk singer, The
folk singer.
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