Spring of ’65 (3:24)

Spring of ’65 (3:24)
Lyrics from J.D. Cornett - Mountain Music of Kentucky

I woke up one morning, the spring of ’65,
I thought I was quite lucky to be found alive,
I geared up my mules, my business to pursue,
Instead of hauling four loads, I only hauled two.

I got so drunk at Harper, I couldn’t haul no more,
The men a-telling jokes, I laughed ‘till I was sore,
The grocery being open, the money spending free,
Soon as one glass was empty, boys, another filled for me.

I picked up my saddle and I strolled out to the barn,
And [catching out all grain], not meaning any harm,
I crawled up on her back and rode so very still,
I scarcely drew a breath, boys, ‘till I reached the Laurel Hill.

There I met an old acquaintance, his name I won’t tell at all,
He told me that night where there’s going to be a ball,
We tittled and we tattled ‘till at last we did agree,
To meet that night, boys, where the fiddle was to be.

I’ll tell you now, boys, how are party did commence,
There’s four of us jolly boys got on the floor to dance,
The fiddler being willing, his arm a-being strong,
He played The Crippled Kingfisher about four hours long.

I see the morning star, boys, I guess we’ve dance enough,
We’ll spend another hour a-paying [cash for cuff],
We’ll go back to our plows, we’ll whistle and we’ll sing,
We never will be guilty of another such a thing.

Come all you newsy women who scatter news about,
Don’t tell no tales upon us, we’re bad enough without,
Don’t tell no tales upon us, to keep up any fuss,
You’ve been guilty of the same thing, perhaps a whole lot worse.