The Valley

O brother, brother, why you sleeping?

O brother, brother, ain’t it morn?

Young brother, don’t you hear our mother weeping,

saying that yer lover’s child’s been born?

And ah, young brother, if she’s pretty

is she gonna cause young men to fall?

And ah young brother, if she’s plain she’s

never gonna know no joy at all.

And ah, young brother I was dancin’,

skippin’ on my feet in the valley so green.

All the young brothers never caught me

singing little songs on my lips so mean.

So,

O brother, brother why you sleeping?

O brother, brother, ain’t it morn?

Young brother, don’t you hear our mother weeping,

saying that yer lover’s child’s been born?