Little Cory 1952 by Jean Ritchie Lyrics

Wake up, wake up, little Cory
What makes you sleep so sound?
When the marshals are a-comin'
Gonna tear your still-house down

Go 'way, go 'way, little Cory
Quit your hangin' around my bed
Bad liquor has ruint my body
Pretty women has gone to my head

The last time I seen little Cory
She was standin' with a bottle in her hand
A-drinkin' down her sorrows
'Cause they took away her man

Don't you hear them bluebirds a-singin'?
Don't you hear that mournful sound?
Don't you hear them bluebirds a-singin'?
My true love, she lies under the ground

I ain't gonna work tomorrow
I ain't a-gonna work next day
I'll stay at home in sorrow
If it is Christmas day
Wake up, wake up, little Cory
What makes you sleep so sound?
When the marshals are a-comin'
Gonna tear your still-house down