’Round The Old Deserted Farm
Willard Robison
I stand alone at sundown
And oh, what a melancholy charm
The prayer meeting bell ends a heartache to the spell
'Round my old deserted farm
Though the home I love is run down
There's still that melancholy charm
The birds flying by sing a muted lullaby
'Round my old deserted farm
A man in the next field ploughing
There's corn on each distant hill
A murmuring stream gives the {?}
Like sweet music will
Love long ago departed
And left an old deserted farm
Where all through the years
I remember her with tears, with tears, with tears