Once there was a little tailor boy About sixteen years of age; My father hired me to a miller That I might learn the trade. I fell in love with a Knoxville girl, Her name was Flora Dean. Her rosy cheeks, her curly hair, I really did admire. Her father he persuaded me To take Flora for a wife; The devil he persuaded me To take Flora's life. Up stepped her mother so bold and gay, So boldly she did stand; Johnny dear, go marry her And take her off my hands. I went unto her father's house About nine o'clock at night, A-asking her to take a walk To do some prively talk. We had not got so very far Till looking around and around, He stooping down picked up a stick And knocks little Flora down. She fell upon her bended knees, For mercy she did cry: O Johnny dear, don't murder me, For I'm not fit to die. I took her by her lily-white hands A-slung her around and around; I drug her off to the river-side, And plunged her in to drown. I returned back to my miller's house About nine o'clock at night, But little did my miller know What I had been about. The miller turned around and about, Said: Johnny, what blooded your clothes? Me being so apt to take a hint: By bleeding at the nose. About nine or ten days after that, Little Flora she was found A-floating down by her father's house Who lived in Knoxville town.
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