(Traditional)

Well she's coming down the stairs, combing back her yellow hair
And I ain't gonna be treated this-a-way
This-a-way
And I ain't gonna be treated this-a-way

Well she went up to her room and she sang a fateful tune
And I'm going where those chilly winds don't blow
Winds don't blow
And I'm going where those chilly winds don't blow

Well I married me a wife, she's been trouble all my life
Run me out in the cold rain and snow
Rain and snow
Run me out in the cold rain and snow