Ever since we met the world's been upside-down,
and if you don't stop troublin' me you'll drive me out of town.
But if you go away, as trouble ought to do,
where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to?
My bed is made of stone, a star has burnt my eye,
I'm goin' down to the willow tree and teach her how to cry.
But if you go away, as trouble ought to do,
where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to?
They bid me wear my hat, put on a nice new gown;
I tossed my bonnet over the roof and I guess it won't come down.
But if you go away, as trouble ought to do,
where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to?