I am a girl of constant sorrow I've seen trouble all my days I old Kentucky The place where I was born and raised My mother, how I hated to leave her Mother dear, now she is dead But I had to go and leave her So my children could have bread Perhaps, dear friends, you're a wondering What the miners eat and wear This question I will try to answer For I think that it is fair For breakfast we have bulldog gravy For dinner we have beans and bread For the miners don't have any supper Just a tick of straw that we call a bed For our clothes be always ragged And our feet be always bare And I'm sure if there's a heaven That the miners will be there