Don's Our Tailor


“Don's Our Tailor,” Appalachian State University Libraries Digital Collections, accessed February 21, 2024,

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Don's Our Tailor


This item is part of the I. G. Greer Folksong Collection which consists of more than 300 individual song titles and their variants as collected by Isaac Garfield Greer (1881-1967) from informants, primarily in Ashe, Wilkes and Watauga counties. The collection includes manuscripts, typescript transcriptions produced by Dr. Greer’s clerical staff, and handwritten musical notations. Songs range from traditional Child Ballads, traditional English and Scottish ballads as well as their American variants, to 19th century popular music to musical compositions of local origin.


Folk songs
Unrequited love--Songs and music
Lovesickness--Songs and music
Tailors--Songs and music


W. L. Eury Appalachian Collection, Appalachian State University


Greer, I. G. (Isaac Garfield), 1881-1967








Don’s Our Tailor

A Tailor I once was as blithe as ever need be,
Until love’s alarms has a devil sure made me,
I that once was so lusty, and called Will the rover,
And now a poor skeleton, Oh, I am done over. Over, over etc.
How many a day have I stood with great pleasure,
And cut out my cloth to my customer’s measure,
With a full yard of cabbage, I then lived in clover,
But now I am a skeleton, by Cupid done over,Over, over, etc.

When first I beheld her in silks dressed so gaily,
I fell into fits and they troubled me daily
Oh! how cruel must she be, the sight could not cure her,
I fear that these fits will soon do me over. Over, over, etc

The next time I saw her pass by my shop window,
My goose, being hot, burnt a sliver to a cinder
The girls do so jeer me, that I can go no where,
Was ever a poor tailor so fairly done over?
Over, over, etc.

The last time I saw her was with a bold sailor,
She pointed and said, there’s a done over tailor
Goodbye Mr. Stitchlouse, I am going to Dover,
The stroke was so great it has quite done me over. Over, over, etc.

So now she has left me and is gone with a sailor,
She has left me alone, a poor done over tailor!
I never more will cabbage, nor be Will the rover,
God send I was dead, for I am fairly done over.
Over, over, etc.

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