First Whippoorwill - Bill Monroe



Springtime is near my darling

You say that you are going away

My heart will be with you my darling

And I?m counting now the days



I know that soon I?ll have to travel

I know I?m over the hill

I feel so all alone my darling said she?d be gone

When I heard that first whippoorwill



The flowers are blooming little darling

With the budding of the trees

I hear the night birds a crying

I know that they are warning me



Our love was planted little darling

Just like the farmer plants his grain

But there will never be a harvest

On the hills the whippoorwills now sing



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