Della Mae Polk County
Word came from up the road
Polk County was full of gold
The air is sweet, the river low
They say the livin's is fine
There a man can wave his hand
An ounce of gold on the pan
Pack the wagon and the bride
Start a better life
Look down the river
The water swirling
Isn't that a lonesome sigh?
Look up the Train tracks
No freight a'comin
You know you'll wait your whole life
Tied to a ball and chain
A golden lock, a golden chain
The fever hits you all the time
Rusts you like moonshine
Green River took many lives
Not just the ones who drowned and dies
The families it starved thin
The ones it drove to sin
