Anna

(Fred Burch)



This old house is falling down

The boards are rotten up from the ground

Anna, Anna

I wanna see my Anna.



The bacon's cold the gravy's steamed

To eat my cooking is a sin

Anna, Anna

How I miss my Anna.



My old hound dog house

Have torn

He seems to know

We won't see Anna again.



The cottonfields are white as snow

I miss my love I wanna go

To see Anna

I wanna see my Anna.



I miss my Anna...