The Ballad of Libby Congriss (performed by Trifolkal)
Greg Trafidlo & Neal Phillips (© KiraPole Music, BMI)

In the spring of '29 on a cabin porch in Caroline
Libby Congriss' sang so loud and shrill
And the cackle of her voice still makes me ill
She wrote the music and the words, 
'Bout wildwood flowers and mockingbirds
All that stuff you're not supposed to kill
When she hovers 'round the stage it gives me chills

I see her ghost in lonesome valleys, from Music Row to Tin Pan Alley
She walks these hills, on dark and stormy nights
'Cause I'm the creep who stole her copyrights

Came up to her mountain home with a tape recorder and microphone
Said "pretty maid, sing your tunes for me
I'll save your songs for all posterity"
Headed back to Bristol town, there I passed her songs around
Sang her lines with no thought of permission
Said "I found them in the mountains, they're tradition (al)"

I see her ghost in lonesome valleys, from Music Row to Tin Pan Alley
She walks these hills, on dark and stormy nights
'Cause I'm the jerk who stole her copyrights

She got sick and passed away, her songs grew famous anyway
And I'm a star on the Grand Ole Opry
No one knows who wrote those tunes, but me

I pray to those in music heaven for all my sins to be forgiven
'Cause Libby's like a bloodhound on my trail
Chasing me in her dirty long black veil

I see her ghost in lonesome valleys, from Music Row to Tin Pan Alley
She walks these hills, on dark and stormy nights
'Cause I'm the klutz who stole her copyrights
I'm the putz who stole her copyrights