Polk County

(C. Woodsmith) Word came from up the road Polk County is filled with gold The air is sweet the river's low They say the livin's fine There a man can wave his hand An ounce of gold in the pan Pack the wagon and the bride Start a better life Look down the river The water swirling Isn't that a lonesome sigh? Look up the train tracks No freight a comin You know you'll wait your whole life Tied to a ball and chain A golden lock, a golden chain The fever hits you all the time Rusts you like moonshine Green River took many lives Not the ones just drowned and died Families it starved thin The ones it drove to sin Look down the river The water swirling Isn't that a lonesome sigh? Look up the train tracks No freight a comin You know you'll wait your whole life