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BUTTERMILK HILL

(learned in the 1950s, probably from Jean Ritchie)

(music to go here)

Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill,
Who can blame me, cry my fill,
Ev'ry tear would turn a mill,
Johnny has gone for a soldier!

Me, oh, my, I loved him so,
Broke my heart to see him go,
Only time can heal my woe,
Johnny has gone for a soldier!

I'll sell my flax, I'll sell my wheel,
And buy my love a sword of steel,
Which in battle he may wield,
Johnny has gone for a soldier!

I'll dye my dress, I'll dye it red,
And through the streets I'll beg my bread,
Oh, the tears that I have shed!
Johnny has gone for a soldier!

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)