A meeting is a pleasure and a parting is grief But a false-hearted lover is worse than a thief A thief can but rob you, and take what you save But a false-hearted lover, take you to your grave 
Chorus I’m troubled, I’m troubled, I’m troubled in mind If trouble don’t kill me, I’ll live a long time 
The grave will decay you, and turn you to dust Ain’t a girl in a million that a poor boy can trust They’ll hug you, they’ll kiss you, they’ll tell you more lies Then the cross-ties on the railroad, or the stars in the sky 
I’m going to Georgia, I’m going to roam I’m going to Georgia, gonna make it my home Gonna build me a cabin, on a mountain so high Where the wild birds can’t see me, or hear my sad cry 
I’m sad and I’m lonely, my true love has said That she loves another, Lord, I wish I was dead My cheeks were as red as the red blooming rose But now they’re as pale as the lily that grows 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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