On Top of Old Smokey

On top of Old Smokey,
All covered with snow,
I lost my true lover
From a-courtin' too slow,
For courtin’s a pleasure
And parting is grief,
But a false-hearted lover
Is worse than a thief.
A thief will just rob you
And take what you have,
But a false-hearted lover
Will lead you to the grave
And the grave will decay you,
And turn you to dust.
Not one boy in a hundred
A poor girl can trust.
He’ll hug you and kiss you,
And tell you more lies
Than the cross-ties on a railroad
Or stars in the skies.
So come, you young maidens,
And listen to me--
Never place your affection
On a green willow tree
For the leaves, they will wither,
And the roots, they will die
And you’ll all be forsaken,
And never know why.