Print This Page#00002 Print This Page
She wrote him this letter that's covered with tears,
And it is the answer to twenty-one years.
Six months have gone by, love, the good doctor said,
For six worried months, love, I've been sick in bed;
My poor hungry heart, love, was in agony,
The drugstore had nothing that could help what ailed me.
They tell me you're worried because I did not write,
But a brain that is fevered is dark as the night;
So you'll understand, love, why I did not write you,
The Master in Heaven knows what I've been through.
The judge made you stand up, said, you dry your tears,
Then he sent you to Dartmoor for twenty-one years;
As we stood there embracing, they tore us apart,
But they'll never tear you from my lonely heart.
They shackled your arms, love, they shackled your feet,
But they'll never shackle a love that is sweet;
The angels all know, love, you'll always be mine,
And I'll still be waiting though it's a long time.
I went to the warden, got down on my knees,
Said, oh, Mr Warden, won't you hurry please;
I asked for your pardon through my blinding tears,
But all I could remember was twenty-one years.
Although you're in prison, behind those iron bars,
When I get my strength back, I'll come where you are;
I'll stand by those high walls and cry through my tears,
And I'll wait for you, love, for twenty-one years.
Yes, I'll wait for you, love, for twenty-one years.
Sung by Mrs. Chloe Bain, Elkton, Missouri, on September 6, 1959, and collected by Max Hunter. Also collected by Vance Randolph (1892-1980) The Ozark Folksongs Collection, 1980.
