| There’s a low, green valley, on the old Kentucky shore
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| Where I’ve whiled many happy hours away
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| A-sitting and a-singing by the little cottage door
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| Where lived my darling Nelly Gray
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| Oh! |
| my poor Nelly Gray, they have taken you away
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| And I’ll never see my darling any more;
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| I’m sitting by the river and I’m weeping all the day
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| For you’ve gone from the old Kentucky shore
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| When the moon had climbed the mountain and the stars were shining too
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| Then I’d take my darling Nelly Gray
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| And we’d float down the river in my little red canoe
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| While my banjo sweetly I would play
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| One night I went to see her, but «She's gone!» |
| the neighbors say
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| The white man bound her with his chain;
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| They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away
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| As she toils in the cotton and the cane
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| My canoe is under water, and my banjo is unstrung;
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| I’m tired of living any more;
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| My eyes shall look downward, and my song shall be unsung
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| While I stay on the old Kentucky shore
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| My eyes are getting blinded, and I cannot see my way
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| Hark! |
| there’s somebody knocking at the door
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| Oh! |
| I hear the angels calling, and I see my Nelly Gray
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| Farewell to the old Kentucky shore
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| Oh, my darling Nelly Gray, up in heaven there they say
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| That they’ll never take you from me any more
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| I’m a-coming-coming-coming, as the angels clear the way
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| Farewell to the old Kentucky shore! |