Fallen leaves
All alone in a wigwam In eighteen sixty-three There lived a fair Indian maiden They calledher Fallen Leaves Pretty as the stars up above you Fair as the moon in the trees Because she was born in October They called her Fallen Leaves There came a trooper one morning Just at the break of day He stopped to rest at the wigwam Of the shy little Indian maid Fallen Leaves the breezes whispered Fallen Leaves the breezes sighed When he rode on that evening Fallen Leaves rode by his side One night while she lay sleeping The moon was shining bright He stole away from the campfire Then rode into the night Fallen Leaves the breezes whispered Fallen Leaves the breezes sighed Our in that lonesome old forest Fallen Leaves she lingered and died