paroles de chanson The Lass from the Low Country - John Jacob Niles
Oh,
he
was
a
lord
of
high
degree
And
she
was
a
lass
from
the
low
countree
But
she
loved
his
lordship
so
tenderly.
Oh
sorrow,
sing
sorrow
Now
she
sleeps
in
the
valley
where
the
wild
flowers
nod
And
no
one
knows
she
loved
him
but
herself
and
God
One
morn
when
the
sun
was
on
the
mead
He
passed
by
her
door
on
a
milk
white
steed
She
smiled
and
she
spoke,
but
he
paid
no
heed
Oh
sorrow,
sing
sorrow
Now
she
sleeps
in
the
valley
where
the
wild
flowers
nod
And
no
one
knows
she
loved
him
but
herself
and
God
If
you
be
a
lass
from
the
low
countree
Don't
love
of
no
lord
of
high
degree
They
haint
got
a
heart
for
sympathy
Oh
sorrow,
sing
sorrow
Now
she
sleeps
in
the
valley
where
the
wild
flowers
nod
And
no
one
knows
she
loved
him
but
herself
and
God
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