On The Banks Of the Old Pontchartrain

I traveled from Texas to old Louisanne
Thru valleys, o’er mountains and plains
Both footsore and weary I rested a-while
On the banks of the old Ponchartrain
The fairest young maiden that I ever saw
Passed by as it started to rain
We both found a shelter beneath the same tree
On the banks of the old Ponchartrain
We hid from the shower an hour or so
She asked me how long I’d remain
I told her that I’d spend the rest of my days
On the banks of the old Ponchartrain
I just couldn’t tell her that I ran away
From jail on a West Texas plain
I prayed in my heart, I would never be found
On the banks of the old Ponchartrain
Then one day a man put his hand on my arm
And said I must go west again
I left her alone without saying goodbye
On the banks of the old Ponchartrain
Tonight as I sit here alone in my cell
I know that she’s waiting in vain
I’m hoping and praying someday to return
To the banks of the old Ponchartrain