In The Gravelyard
Traditional
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chorus
In the gravel yard, with a number for my name.
Making little rocks out of big rocks all day.
Well, the work is mighty hard in the gravel yard.
I'll never be a free man, so they say.
Warden hear my plea, listen to me.
I killed a man I caught with my wife.
You'd probably done the same, so why am I to blame.
Sentenced to the rest of my life.
In the driven rain with a ball and chain.
My hammer rings a low mournful sound.
It sings a little song for the ones who done me wrong.
Who lie beneath the cold, cold ground.