Ever since we met the world's been upside-down, And if you don't stop troublin' me you'll drive me out of town. But if you go away, as trouble ought to do, Where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to? My bed is made of stone, a star has burnt my eye, I'm goin' down to the willow tree and teach her how to cry. But if you go away, as trouble ought to do, Where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to? They bid me wear my hat, put on a nice new gown; I tossed my bonnet over the roof and I guess it won't come down. But if you go away, as trouble ought to do, Where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to?