A company girl of tender agenA company girl of tender agenI came to know my mother's tradennWe're up at dark on the linenWe're up at dark and on the linenWhere morning cracks and spindles widennEach night I hear her cough and cursenEach night I hear her cough and cursenThrough restless eyes a bedside nursennNow by her side, I'll end the chillnNow by her side, I'll end the chillnI'll lay her down in a potters fieldnnI'd rather die and blow awaynI'd rather die and blow awaynThan take my rest in a company gravenI'd rather die and blow away