Little Poplar Log House On The Hill

Now kind friends I want to tell you

Of a little country home

It is made of poplar logs upon the hill

That's where father died and left us

When we were very young

And our mother kept us settled on he hill

When our days work on the farm was done

She'd would gather us around

She would have us get down on our little knees

She would pray for God to keep us

Through the night until next

In our little old poplar log house on the hill

Our father died a good man

Which we all would like to do

And I'm going there to see him some old day

When I'm  get through with my singing

Lay my guitar by my side

Lord I want to play in heaven when I die

Recorded 10/3/40 - Chicago, IL