I wanna be a witchman…

No one will wear my silver ring

Poor little turtle dove
Sitting up in pine
Mourning for your own true love
Why not me for mine?

I got hogs in the pen
And corn to feed them on
And all I want is someone
Who will feed them when
I’m dead and gone
Feed them when I’m dead
And gone

‘Cos I know I’m not going to marry in the fall
And I’m not going to marry in the spring
I will never marry, marry at all
No one will wear my silver ring
Wear my silver no one will

Poor little turtle dove
Sitting up in pine
Mourning for your own true love
Why not me for mine?

So I went up to this mountain
To give my horn a blow
And all the boys in the valley said
Yonder comes my beau
Yonder comes my beau

‘Cos I know I’m not going to marry in the fall
And I’m not going to marry in the spring
I will never marry, marry at all
No one will wear my silver ring
Wear my silver no one will

But who will feed them when I’m
Dead and gone?