I'll go down the new cut road,
And Liza down the lane;
I'll throw my hat in the corner
of the fence,
And scare poor Liza Jane.
I'll go up on the mountain top
And plant me a patch of cane,
I'll make me a jug of molasses
For to sweeten little Liza Jane.
Hurry up, pretty little gal,
Hurry up Liza Jane,
Hurry up, poor little gal,
She died on the train.
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I went to see my Liza Jane,
She was standin' in the door,
Her shoes and stockings in her hand
And her feet all over the floor.
The hardest work I ever did
Was a-brakin' on the train,
The easiest work that I ever did
Was a-courtin' Liza Jane.
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