Mary American Murder Song

Three little sister, barnyard blisters
Cornhusk dolls and pinesap feet
Grooms of barley, blushing when they ought be
Milking cow and threshing wheat

Way-hey! Fiddle-aye-ay!
Where is our Mary? Run, run away
Took to the Cumberland road past May
Mary, Mary, come home, come home
Way-hey! Fiddle-aye-ay!
Where is the parson? Come out and pray
Dark is the road where the devils play
Mary, Mary, come home

Daddy told the dresses, “Comb your tresses
Cousin Clayton we’re to see
Bought himself a man and miles of cotton
Wants for Mary’s chastity”
Mary shook her ribbons, none the ready
Kicked the cart and tipped the bale
Tugged the bull dog high up to the hayloft
Father doused her with a pail

Way-hey! Fiddle-aye-ay!
Where is our Mary? Run, run away
Took to the Cumberland road past May
Mary, Mary, come home, come home
Way-hey! Fiddle-aye-ay!
Where is the parson? Come out and pray
Dark is the road where the devils play
Mary, Mary, come home