Tom Dooley

Hang your head, Tom Dooley

Hang your head and cry

You killed poor Laurie Foster

And you know you're bound to dieYou left her by the roadside

Where you begged to be excused

You left her by the roadside

Then you hid her clothes and shoesHang your head, Tom Dooley

Hang your head and cry

You killed poor Laurie Foster

And you know you're bound to dieYou took her on the hillside

For to make her your wife

You took her on the hillside

And there you took her lifeYou dug the grave four feet long

And you dug it three feet deep

You rolled the cold clay over her

And tromped it with your feetHang your head, Tom Dooley

Hang your head and cry

You killed poor Laurie Foster

And you know you're bound to dieTrouble, oh it's trouble

A-rollin' through my breast

As long as I'm a-livin', boys

They ain't a-gonna let me restI know they're gonna hang me

Tomorrow I'll be dead

Though I never even harmed a hair

On poor little Laurie's headHang your head, Tom Dooley

Hang your head and cry

You killed poor Laurie Foster

And you know you're bound to dieIn this world and one more

Then reckon where I'll be

If is wasn't for Sheriff Grayson

I'd be in TennesseeYou can take down my old violin

And play it all you please

For at this time tomorrow, boys

It'll be of no use to meHang your head, Tom Dooley

Hang your head and cry

You killed poor Laurie Foster

And you know you're bound to dieAt this time tomorrow

Where do you reckon I'll be?

Away down yonder in the holler

Hangin' on a white oak treeHang your head, Tom Dooley

Hang your head and cry

You killed poor Laurie Foster

And you know you're bound to die