Poor Ellen Smith, how she was found
Shot through the heart, lying cold on the ground
Her clothes were all ragged and thrown on the ground
The blood marked the spot where poor Ellen was found
They picked up her body and off they did go
To a lonesome old graveyard, I'll see her no more
They took out their rifles and hunted me down
They found me a-loafing around through the town
I got a letter yesterday, I read it today
Said the flowers on her grave had all faded away
I'm going back home, Lord, I'll stay when I go
On poor Ellen's grave, pretty flowers I'll sow
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