Lexington Girl- Fleecy Fox (AR) 1963 Wolf C
[My title, since no city was named it was mis-titled by The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection at Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas.
R. Matteson 2016]
THE LEXINGTON GIRL- Sung by: Fleecy Fox. Recorded in Mountain Home, AR 6/15/63
Click here to listen to the original recording
http://web.lyon.edu/wolfcollection/songs/foxexport1301.html
Last Saturday night, two weeks ago,
--Oh, cursed be the day--
Old Satan put it into me
To take her life away.
I went down to her sister’s house
At eight o’clock that night,
But what did that old thing think,
At her I had a spite.
I asked her if she’d walk with me
Along the little way,
That we could have a private talk
About our wedding day.
Hand in hand we walked along
‘Til we came to a desolate place.
I drew a stick from off the fence
And struck her in the face.
Down on her bending knees she knelt;
For mercy she did cry.
“For Heaven’s sake, don’t murder me.
I’m not prepared to die.”
But little attention did I pay,
And beat her all the more,
Until her precious blood was spilt,
More than she could restore.
Then back to the mill I did return,
In hoping to find some rest,
A swelling, burning in my breast,
Seemed like a burning Hell.
Come all you lovers, take warning to this,
Until your lover proves true.
Don't ever let old Satan get
The upper hand of you.
_______________________________________
EXPORT TOWN- Sung by: Fleecy Fox (Version 2). Recorded in Pangburn, AR 7/29/63
Click here to listen to the original recording
http://web.lyon.edu/wolfcollection/songs/foxexport1276.html
Last Saturday night, two weeks ago,
Cursed be that day,
Old Satan put it into me
To take her life away.
I went down to her sister’s house
At eight o’clock that night,
But what did that little thing think,
At her I had a spite.
I asked her if she’d walk with me
Along the little way,
That we might have a private talk
About our wedding day.
Hand in hand, we walked along,
‘Til we came to a desolate place.
I drew a stick from the fence,
And I struck her in the face.
Down on her bending knee she knelt;
For mercy she did cry.
“For Heaven’s sakes, don’t murder me;
I’m not prepared to die.”
But little attention did I pay;
I beat her all the more,
Until her precious blood was spilt,
More than she could restore.
Then back to the mill I did return,
In hoping to find some rest.
A swelling, burning in my breast
Seemed like a burning Hell.
Come all you lovers, take warning to this,
Until your lover proves true,
But never let old Satan get
The upper hand of you.