I’m Troubled I’m Troubled

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   I’m troubled I’m troubled
   I’m troubled in mind
   If trouble don’t kill me
   I’ll live a long time

Now meeting is pleasure and parting is grief
And a false-hearted lover is worse than a thief
A thief can but rob you and take what you’ve saved
But a false-hearted lover’ll take you to your grave

The grave will detain you and turn you to dust
Ain’t a girl in a million a poor boy can trust
They’ll hug you, they’ll kiss you they’ll tell you more lies
Then the cross ties on a railroad or the stars in the skies

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 in the mountains so high
Where the wild birds and the turtle doves can’t hear my sad cry