Liza Jane
Channel: Stephen Griffith
Date: 29/05/2020

Day 74 of the American Songbag Stay-at-Home Series. (folksongindex.com)

The mountains are friendly and homelike to many who live there. Gilbert R. Combs tells of men leaving for a year or two of "ranching it " on the western plains, and then straggling back saying of the flat prairies and level horizons, "It was too lonesome, too l-o-n-e-s-o-m-e." They have their  own ways. Some are told of in these lines from men who are a law unto themselves. 

There are  as many Liza songs in the Appalachian mountains as there are species of trees on the slopes of that range.

Liza Jane

I'll go up on the mountain top, 
And plant me a patch of cane, 
I'll make me a jug of molasses, 
For to sweeten little Liza Jane.
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
O po' Liza Jane, 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
She died on the train.

I'll go up on the mountain top, 
Put up my moonshine still,
I'll make you a quart of old moonshine,
For just one dollar bill.
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
O po' Liza Jane, 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
She died on the train.

Head Is like a coffee pot, 
Nose is like a spout,
Her mouth is like an old fire-place, 
With the ashes all raked out. 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
O po' Liza Jane, 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
She died on the train.

I went to see my Liza Jane, 
She was standing in the door,
Her shoes and stockings in her hand, 
And her feet all over the floor. 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
O po' Liza Jane, 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
She died on the train.

O po' Liza, po' gal, 
O po' Liza Jane, 
O po' Liza, po' gal, 
She died on the train.
The hardest work that ever I did, 
Was a-brakin* on the train, 
The easiest work that ever I did, 
Was a-huggin' little Liza Jane.