I don't know. Maybe it's just me. But I get chill bumps just reading these lines written so many years ago by a young songwriter who died drunk and unloved. Can you hear the pleading between the lines here? Listen to James Taylor's version. (These are actually the lyrics to his version.) Do you feel it? Try again.
Well I come from Alabama with my banjo on my knee
And I'm bound for Louisiana, my own true love for to see
It did rain all night the day I left; the weather was bone dry
The sun was so hot I froze myself
Susanne don't you go on and cry
I said, Oh, Susannah
Now, don't you cry for me
As I come from Alabama
With this banjo on my knee
Well I had myself a dream the other night when everything was still
I dreamed that I saw my girl Susanne;
she was coming around the hill
Now, the buckwheat cake was in her mouth;
a tear was in her eye
I said, that I come from Dixie land
Susanne don't you break down and cry
I said, Oh, Susannah
Now, don't you cry for me
'Cause I come from Alabama
with my banjo on my knee
Stephen Foster