In the hills of West Virginia lived a gal named Nancy BrownShe was the fairest maid for many miles aroundAnd then she met the deacon who was looking for some thrillsHe took our little Nancy for a ride up in the hillsBut she came running down the mountainRunning down the mountainRunning down the mountain down the lineAnd she never gave the deacon that thrill he were the seekingShe came home as pure as West Virginia pineThen came that village cowboy with his chaps and fancy frillsHe took our little Nancy for a ride up in the hillsBut she came running down the mountainRunning down the mountainRunning down the mountain by the shackAs I before have stated she was still uncontaminatedBut she came running down the mountainShe came home as pure as happy Zappo JackThen Henderson the trapper with his phrases sweet and kindTook her to the mountains but when she read his mindShe came running down the mountainRunning down the mountainRunning down the mountain by the ***And in spite of all his urging she came home a local virginShe remained as pure as West Virginia hamThen came that city slicker with his hundred dollar billsPut her in his caddy and he drove her to the hillsBut she stayed up in the mountainStayed up in the mountainShe stayed up in the mountain all that nightShe stayed up in the mountain all that nightShe came home next morning earlyMore a woman than a girlyAnd her pappy chased that posse out of sightNow she's living in the cityLiving in the cityShe's living up in New York might as wellShe's now eating fancy vittlesShe's all through with pots and kittlesAnd the West Virginia hills can go to hellShe's all through with pots and kittles