Lyrics:
Hang down your head, Tom DooleyHang down your head and cryKilled poor Laura FosterYou know you're bound to dieYou took her on the hillside, as God almighty knowsYou took her on the hillside and there you hid her clothesYou took her by the roadside where you begged to be excusedYou took her by the roadside where there you hid her shoesYou took her on the hillside to make her your wifeYou took her on the hillside where there you took her lifeTake down my old violin and play it as you pleaseAt this time tomorrow, it'll be no use to meI dug a grave four foot long, I dug it three feet deepAnd throwed the cold clay o'er her and tramped it with my feetThis world and one more then where do you reckon I'd beIf it hadn't been for Grayson, I'd a-been in Tennessee