I'm Troubled, I'm Troubled

I’m troubled I’m troubled
I’m troubled in mind
If trouble don’t kill me
I’ll live a long time
Now meeting is pleasure and parting is grief
And a false-hearted lover is worse than a thief
A thief can but rob you and take what you’ve saved
But a false-hearted lover’ll take you to your grave
The grave will detain you and turn you to dust
Ain’t a girl in a million a poor boy can trust
They’ll hug you, they’ll kiss you they’ll tell you more lies
Then the cross ties on a railroad or the stars in the skies
I’m going to Georgia I’m going to roam
I’m going to Georgia gonna make it my home
Gonna build me a cabin in the mountains so high
Where the wild birds and the turtle doves can’t hear my sad cry