|
My love asked me, to take a walk |
|
Just to walk, a little way |
|
And as we walked along we talked |
|
Of when would be our wedding day |
|
We walked beneath the whispering pines |
|
His heart was filled with love divine |
|
And as we neared the riverside |
|
He asked me when |
|
I'd be his bride |
|
Oh no your bride, |
|
I'll never be |
|
Another one's prepared for me |
|
And as I drew my hand from his |
|
His heart was filled with fire divine |
|
He drew his knife across my breast |
|
And in his arms |
|
I gently pressed |
|
Willy dear, don't murder me |
|
For I am not prepared to die |
|
He took me by my golden curls |
|
He drug me down to the riverside |
|
And as he threw me into drown |
|
He watched me as |
|
I floated down |
|
He started home 'tween twelve and one |
|
Thinking on the deed he'd done |
|
Murdered just the one he loved |
|
Because I would not be his bride |
