Hard Times - Gillian Welch

There was a Camptown man, used to plow and sing

He loved that mule and the mule loved him

And when the day got long as it does about now

I’d hear him singing to his muley cow

Calling, «Come on my sweet old girl

I’d bet the whole damn world

We’re gonna make it yet to the end of the row»

Singing, hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind

Hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind, Bessie

Hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind no more

Said it’s a mean old world, heavy in need

That big machine is just picking up speed

They were supping on tears;

they were supping on wine

We all get to heaven in our own sweet time

So come on all you Asheville boys

Turn up your old-time noise

Kick 'til the dust comes up from the cracks in the floor

Singing, hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind, brother

Hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind

Hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind no more

But the Camptown man doesn’t plow no more

I seen him walking down to the cigarette store

I guess he lost that knack;

he forgot that song

Woke up one morning and his mule was gone

So come on you ragtime kings

Come on you dogs and sing

Pick up the dusty old horn and give it a blow

Playing hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind, honey

Hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind, sugar

Hard times ain’t gonna rule my mind no more