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Down in the willow garden, me and my love did meet |
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And as we sat a-courting, my love fell off to sleep |
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I had a bottle of burgundy wine; my love, she did not know |
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And so I poisoned that dear little girl along the banks below |
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Along the banks below |
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I drew my saber through her; it was a bloody night |
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I threw her in the river, which was a dreadful sight |
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My father often told me that money would set me free |
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And so I murdered that dear little girl whose name was Rose Connelly |
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Whose name was Rose Connelly |
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My father sits at his cabin door wiping his tear-dimmed eyes |
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His only son soon should walk to yonder scaffold high |
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My race is run beneath the sun; the scaffold now waits for me |
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For I did murder that dear little girl whose name was Rose Connelly |
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Whose name was Rose Connelly |
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Whose name was Rose Connelly |
