Letras
Oh, she was a lass from the low country
And he was a Lord of high degree
But she loved him oh so tenderly
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wildflowers nod
No one knows how she loved him but herself and god
One day when the snow was on the mead
She passed him by on a milk white steed
And she spoke to him low, nobody paid no heed
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wildflowers nod
No one knows how she loved him but herself and god
Now if you be a lass from the low country
Don't love no man of high degree
For he don't got a heart or no sympathy
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where wildflowers nod
No one knows how she loved him but herself and god