AWA

Poor Ellen Smith

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Come all you two people, my story to hear What happened to me in June of last year Poor Ellen Smith and how was she found She shot through her heart, lyin' cold on the ground Lying cold on the ground with her hands on her breasts The sheriff and the bloodhounds, they gave me no rest They picked up their rifles, they hunted me down They found me a-loafin', around through the town They took me to Winston, my trial there to stand To live or to die as the law may command If I could go back home and stay when I go Around poor Ellen's grave pretty flowers I would sow Pretty flowers I would sow, pretty flowers I would sow Around poor Ellen's grave pretty flowers I would sow

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