Lyrics

Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill, who can blame me, cryin’ my fill. And ev’ry tear would turn a mill, Johnny has gone for a soldier. Siuil Siuil Siuil a Ghra. Me oh my I loved him so. Only time would heal my woe. Johnny has gone for a soldier. I sold my rod, I sold my reel. To buy my love a sword and shield. But now he lies murdered in the field. Johnny has gone for a soldier. I’ll dye my dress, I’ll dye it red, through the streets I’ll beg my bread. Oh how I wish that I was dead since Johnny has gone for a soldier.