BUTTERMILK HILL
(learned in the 1950s, probably from Jean Ritchie)
Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill,
Me, oh, my, I loved him so,
I'll sell my flax, I'll sell my wheel,
I'll dye my dress, I'll dye it red,
(from miriam berg's folksong collection)
Who can blame me, cry my fill,
Ev'ry tear would turn a mill,
Johnny has gone for a soldier!
Broke my heart to see him go,
Only time can heal my woe,
Johnny has gone for a soldier!
And buy my love a sword of steel,
Which in battle he may wield,
Johnny has gone for a soldier!
And through the streets I'll beg my bread,
Oh, the tears that I have shed!
Johnny has gone for a soldier!