Some people like the dark brunette,
While others fancy yellow;
Give me my auburn-haired Jeanette,
With eyes that melt a fellow.
She was so pretty when we met,
Hard by my father's meadow;
Just what I asked I do forget,
But this is what she said, " Oh,

" 'T is because I was so lucky
To be born in old Kentucky " —
As she winked with her pretty, laughing eye —
" Where the horses are much fleeter,
And the women all the sweeter
And the farmers raise extraordinary rye! "

I said, " My pretty stranger, pray
Sit down while I recover;
Your beauty takes my breath away,
And I'm your captive lover.
I own this pretty farm you see
On either side the meadow,
And will you, dear, its mistress be, "
And this is what she said, " Oh,

" If you wish to be so lucky
You must move to old Kentucky " —
As she winked with her pretty, laughing eye —
" Where the horses are much fleeter,
And the women all the sweeter
And the farmers raise extraordinary rye! "

When angels beckon we pursue,
Though to Kentucky leading.
I sold the farm, what could I do
When eyes like hers were pleading?
And there she showed me better land,
And, in her blue-grass meadow,
She, kissing, bade me understand
Just why it was she said, " Oh,
" 'T is because I was so lucky
To be born in old Kentucky " —
As she winked with her pretty, laughing eye —
" Where the horses are much fleeter,
And the women all the sweeter
And the farmers raise extraordinary rye! "