Оригинален текст
Written & Recorded by Hank Snow
GIn an old dusty G7attic of a Ctenement house
I Ghappend to A7wander one Dday D7
And Gthere on the G7rafters 'neath Cshavings and chips
A Gdrunkard's poor D7little boy Glay
Oh G7why are lying up Chere in the cold
What G7makes you lie on this hard Cbed? C7
My Ffather's a drunkard and he Cbeat me toAmday
My Fdarling old G7mother is Cdead
I'mGhiding from G7father and Cplease sir, don't tell
He Gbeat me 'cause A7I would not Dsteal D7
He Gsaid he would G7kill me the Cnext I failed
And I'm Gso aD7fraid sir, he Gwill
I'm G7leaving you here, son, I Csadly replied
But G7I will be back right aCway C7
But Fwhen I returned to the Cattic I Amfound
That FJesus had G7been there that Cday
The Gchips and the G7shavings were Cthere as before
And the Glittle boy A7lie on his Dbed D7
With Gtears on his G7cheeks and his Chands at his side
The Gpoor little D7fellow was G7dead
A G7picture of mother lay Cclose to his heart
A G7faint little note by his Chead C7
As I Fopened the paper, my Ceyes filled with Amtears
For Fthese were the G7words that I Cread
I'm Ghiding with G7Jesus aCcross the divide
With dear Gmother forA7ever I'll Ddwell D7
And Gthank you dear G7mister for your Ckindness to me
And Gnow it's alD7right if you Gtell