DOREEN KEY G
Thru the grey frosty dawn,
ev'ry cold winter's morn,
G C G D7
rode this lad full of life and joy
ev'ry day just the same
down the roadway he came.
He was known as their own saddle boy.
Now the sad willows wave
O'er the old silent grave,
Where the tall grasses bend and bow.
And the jackass's laugh
is the only epitaph
o'er the grave of this brave saddle boy.
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