| There’s a low, green valley, on the old Kentucky shore | 
| Where I’ve whiled many happy hours away | 
| A-sitting and a-singing by the little cottage door | 
| Where lived my darling Nelly Gray | 
| Oh! | 
| my poor Nelly Gray, they have taken you away | 
| And I’ll never see my darling any more; | 
| I’m sitting by the river and I’m weeping all the day | 
| For you’ve gone from the old Kentucky shore | 
| When the moon had climbed the mountain and the stars were shining too | 
| Then I’d take my darling Nelly Gray | 
| And we’d float down the river in my little red canoe | 
| While my banjo sweetly I would play | 
| One night I went to see her, but «She's gone!» | 
| the neighbors say | 
| The white man bound her with his chain; | 
| They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away | 
| As she toils in the cotton and the cane | 
| My canoe is under water, and my banjo is unstrung; | 
| I’m tired of living any more; | 
| My eyes shall look downward, and my song shall be unsung | 
| While I stay on the old Kentucky shore | 
| My eyes are getting blinded, and I cannot see my way | 
| Hark! | 
| there’s somebody knocking at the door | 
| Oh! | 
| I hear the angels calling, and I see my Nelly Gray | 
| Farewell to the old Kentucky shore | 
| Oh, my darling Nelly Gray, up in heaven there they say | 
| That they’ll never take you from me any more | 
| I’m a-coming-coming-coming, as the angels clear the way | 
| Farewell to the old Kentucky shore! |