Coll. by M.C. Parler Mrs. Bertha Lauderdale
Dec. 5, 1959
Reel 319, Item 11
Ten Thousand Miles Away
On the banks of a lonely river,
Ten thousand miles away,
I have an aged mother Whose hair is turning gray.
Oh it’s blame me not for weeping,
Oh blame me not I pray,
For I want to see my mother Who’s ten thousand miles away.
If I were a little birdie,
Had wings and I could fly,
I’d fly to that lonely river,
Ten thousand miles away.
Last night as I lay sleeping,
I had a pleasant dream,
I dreamed I saw my mother Praying to God for me.
Today I got a letter From a sister far away,
She said they’d laid my mother Beneath the cold, cold clay.
(Learned from her grandmother, who had learned it from her mother in Nashville, Tennessee.)
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