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by Marty Robbins

Matilda with your calloused hands
Where Will goes you will follow in search of better land

Matilda never mind where you have been
Forget about Missouri forget about your kin

Matilda it's too bad your baby's gone
But he's rested in his cradle by the river
Neath a simple grave of stone

Matilda musn't let Will see you cry
Covered wagons keep on rolling never question or ask why

Matilda work your fingers to the bone
Read your Bible pray the Indians might spare you
Till you and Will reach your new home

Matilda just five hundred miles to go
You know Will's so proud of you though he never tells you so
Matilda Matilda

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