Over There

Oh, I used to go a-courting over there (2x)
Oh I used to go a-courting
The girls they came a-sporting
And they had music without noting over there.

Oh, I asked her if she loved me over there (2x)
Oh, I asked her if she loved me
Said she thought she was above me
And that she bumped above me over there.

Oh, her father's name is Moses, over there,
Oh, her father's name is Moses, over there,
Oh, her father's name is Moses
And their cheeks as red as roses
And they've got the flattest noses over there.

The potatoes they grow small, over there,
The potatoes they grow small, over there,
The potatoes they grow small
And they plants 'em in the fall
And they eats 'em tops and all, over there.

Oh they churn their butter well, over there,
Oh they churn their butter well, over there,
Oh they churn their butter well
And their buttermilk they sell
And the rest I will not tell, over there.

From Folk Songs of the Blue Ridge Mountains, Shellans
Collected from John Vass, Hillsville, VA, 1959
See also The Famine Song (Praties They Grow Small)
RG