Som na Caixa

- Letra -

 This be the way my letter read.

I got a letter this morning,
This be the way my letter read.

I got a letter this morning,
This be the way my letter read.

Say you better come on home Farmer John,
Help me, your baby is dead.

come on, come on, come on home (x8)

I was about to write a letter,
But I believe I’ll go myself.

I was about to write a letter,
I believe I’ll go myself.

They tell me letters get stole,
And a telegram may get left.

No I ain’t going,
To my baby’s burying ground.

No I ain’t going,
To my baby’s burying ground.