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Little Orphan Girl  Doc Watson

[G]"No home, no home," said a [D7]little [G]girl
At the [D7]door of a [C]rich man's [G]home
She trembling [C]stood on the [G]marble steps
And leaned on the [D7]polished [G]wall
Her [G]clothes were thin and her [D7]feet were [G]bare
And the [D7]snowflakes [C]covered her [G]head
"Let me come [C]in," she [G]feebly said
"Please give me a [D7]little [G]bread"
As the [G]little girl still [D7]trembling [G]stood
Be[D7]fore that [C]rich man's [G]door
With a frowning [C]face he [G]scornfully said
"No room, no [D7]bread for the [G]poor"
Then the [G]rich man went to his [D7]table so [G]fine
Where [D7]he and his [C]family were [G]fed
And the orphan [C]stood in the [G]snow so deep
As she cried for a [D7]piece of [G]bread
The [G]rich man slept on his [D7]velvet [G]couch
And he [D7]dreamed of his [C]silver and [G]gold
While the orphan [C]lay in a [G]bed of snow
And murmured, "So [D7]cold, so [G]cold"
The [G]hours rolled on through the [D7]midnight [G]storm
Rolled [D7]on like a [C]funeral [G]bell
The sleet came [C]down in a [G]blinding sheet
And the drifting [D7]snow still [G]fell
When [G]morning came the [D7]little [G]girl
Still [D7]lay at the [C]rich man's [G]door
But her soul had [C]fled a[G]way to its home
Where there's room and [D7]there's bread for the [G]poor

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