FALLEN LEAVES
(Jimmie Skinner)

All alone in a wigwam, in 1863,
There lived a fair Indian maiden,
They called Her Fallen Leaves.
Pretty as the stars up above you,
Fair as the moon in the trees,
Because she was born in October,
They Called Her Fallen Leaves.

There came a trooper one morning,
Just at the break of day,
He stopped to rest at the wigwam,
Of the shy little Indian maid.
Fallen Leaves the breezes whisper,
Fallen Leaves the breezes sigh,
When he rode on that evening,
Fallen Leaves rode by his side.

One night while she lay sleeping
The moon was shinning bright,
He stole away from the campfire,
Then rode into the night.
Fallen Leaves the breezes whisper,
Fallen Leaves the breezes sigh,
Out in the lonesome old forest,
Fallen Leaves she lingered and died.

@country @Amerind @death
filename[ FALLEAVS
GG
APR99
mudcat.org

---

PLEASE NOTE: Because of the volunteer nature of The Digital Tradition, it is difficult to ensure proper attribution and copyright information for every song included. Please assume that any song which lists a composer is copyrighted ©. You MUST aquire proper license before using these songs for ANY commercial purpose. If you have any additional information or corrections to the credit or copyright information included, please e-mail those additions or corrections to us (along with the song title as indexed) so that we can update the database as soon as possible. Thank You.