Poor little turtle dove,
Sitting in a pine,
Mourning for its own true love,
Why not me for mine?
Why not, why not me for mine?
Why not, why not me for mine?
I've got hogs in my pen,
And corn to feed them up.
All I want is someone to feed them when I'm gone,
Who will feed them, feed them when I'm gone.
[When I'm gone, when I'm gone]
Who will feed them, feed them when I'm gone.
So I went up to the mountain,
To give my horn a blow.
All the boys in the valley said,
"Yonder comes my beau,
Oh, yonder comes my beau."
[Comes by beau]
Well I'm not gonna marry in the fall,
I know I will never marry in the spring.
I will never marry, marry at all,
No one will wear my silver, wear my silver ring.
Where's my, where are my silver rings?
Poor little turtle dove,
Sitting in a pine.
Mourning for its own true love,
Why not me for mine?
Why not me for mine?