On Top of Old Smokey - Harry Belafonte

　　On top of old Smokey

　　All covered with snow

　　I lost my true lover

　　For a courting to slow

　　Yes courting's a pleasure

　　And parting is grief

　　And a false hearted lover

　　Is worse than a thief

　　She'll kiss you she'll hug you

　　Tell you more lies

　　Than the cross ties on a railroad

　　Or the stars in the sky

　　Let me tell you 'bout my baby

　　She's like bad brandy wine

　　The first time I kissed her

　　She drove me out my mind

　　She's a Baltimore special

　　Got a fine brown frame

　　When you see her in motion

　　Evil woman is her name

　　Did I tell you 'bout the Eastman

　　Lord what a shame

　　He run off with my baby

　　And scandalized my name

　　Well I went up on a mountain top

　　To call my baby back

　　She was gone with that Eastman

　　Down that lonesome railroad track

　　If I ever see that Eastman

　　I'll shoot him with my gun

　　I'll cut him with my long Jones

　　And dare that pimp to run

　　Little Liza little Liza

　　I couldn't sleep last night

　　Come on back home baby

　　Everything will be all right

　　Let me tell you let me tell you

　　I don't care what you say

　　If my woman ever comes back

　　I'll give my life away