Teksty: The Weavers. Buttermilk Hill.

Here I sit on Buttermilk hill
Who can play me, cry my fill
And every tear and turn of milk
Johnny is gone for a soldier

I sold my rock, I sold my reel
I even sold my spinning wheel
To buy my love a sword of steel
Johnny is gone for a soldier

Behold my, I loved him so
Broke my heart to see him go
And only time can heal my wound
Johnny is gone for a soldier

Here I sit on Buttermilk hill
Who can play me, cry my fill
And every tear and turn of milk
Johnny is gone for a soldier