Doc Watson – Little Orphan Girl (Guitar)

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"No home, no home," said a little girl

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At the door of a rich man's home

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She trembling stood on the marble steps

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And leaned on the polished wall

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Her clothes were thin and her feet were bare

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And the snowflakes covered her head

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"Let me come in," she feebly said

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"Please give me a little bread"

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As the little girl still trembling stood

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Before that rich man's door

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With a frowning face he scornfully said

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"No room, no bread for the poor"

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Then the rich man went to his table so fine

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Where he and his family were fed

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And the orphan stood in the snow so deep

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As she cried for a piece of bread

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The rich man slept on his velvet couch

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And he dreamed of his silver and gold

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While the orphan lay in a bed of snow

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And murmured, "So cold, so cold"

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The hours rolled on through the midnight storm

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Rolled on like a funeral bell

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The sleet came down in a blinding sheet

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And the drifting snow still fell

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When morning came the little girl

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Still lay at the rich man's door

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But her soul had fled away to its home

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Where there's room and there's bread for the poor