Poor Man’s Daughter – Buffy Saint Marie

All my life I’ve been a poor man’s daughter.
All my life I’ve had a poor girl’s hand.
‘Til the day came that I was promised
For my beauty to a rich young man.

Days they passed and nights they followed
‘Til the day came that I should go
Off in my ragged skirts for the last time
To my wedding down in Mexico.

All my life I’ve been a poor man’s daughter.
Never have I known a day of rest.
On my journey to my rich young bridegroom,
How my heart it beat within my breast.

I was born a poor man’s daughter.
I’ve been a ragamuffin all my life.
Long white dresses, lace and flowers,
Oh, I’ll be happy as a rich man’s wife.

Fast the horses raced with my carriage,
All the faster beat my heart,
To my lover and my marriage,
Then my carriage gave a lurch and stopped.
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How I paced and how I waited,
How I wanted to continue on,
How I hated for to waste one hour
In that dirty little border town.

Men have said that women are fickle;
Changeable as birds in flight.
Men have said that women are fickle.
And I think perhaps that men are right.

Strong and handsome was the one who helped me
Right my carriage and get on my way.
Strong and handsome and poor the stranger
I have loved ever since that day.

I arrived at my bridegroom’s door.
I pulled his hair and I kicked his knee,
Dirtied my face and I wore no shoes.
Oh, no fine gentleman shall marry me.

Now my carriage is turned around.
On the Mexican border I’ll live my life.
I was born a poor man’s daughter.
I’ll be happy as a poor man’s wife.