John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
John Schumann
In eighteen hundred and forty one
I put me corduroy britches on
Put me corduroy britches on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty two
I left the old world for the new
Left the old world for the new
To work upon the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty three
Was then I met sweet Molly McGee
Asked her if she'd marry me
To work upon the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty four
My hands and feet and back were sore
Hands and feet and back were sore
From working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty five
I felt more dead than alive
Felt more dead than alive
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty six
I broke the handle on my pick
Broke the handle on my pick
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty seven
Sweet Molly McGee she went to heaven
If she left one kid she left eleven
To work upon the railway