It’s been five years come this autumn, she remembers well the day
The day the fever got him, and took him far away
Far away from always knowing that the love they shared was true
Far away the fiddler’s bowing, the grass forever blue
It was in the dead of winter when her man first caught the chill
And he said he heard the angels singing “Cabin on the Hill”
Through the springtime he was groaning “The good times are past and gone”
By the summer she was moaning “Old lover please come home”
Now she stands out in the midnight in the moonlight all aglow
She prays to Carter Stanley “Won’t you please tell Bill Monroe
Rather be in some dark hollow or some dark deep shady grove
I started listening to bluegrass music in Bryan Duckworth’s rust red 1970 Ford