Down The Road
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Down the road about a mile or two, lives a little girl named Pearly Blue.
About so high and her hair is brown, prettiest thing, boys, in this town.
Now any time you want to know, where I'm going down the road.
Get my girl on the line, you'll find me there most anytime.
Now every day and Sunday too, I go to see my Pearly Blue.
Before you hear the rooster crow, you'll see me headed down the road.
Now every time I get the blues, I walk the soles right off my shoes.
I don't know why I love her so, that girl of mine lives down the road.
Now her old man he owns the farm, from the hog lot to the barn,
From the barn to the rail, he makes his living by carrying the mail.