Pregled posta

Down in the willow garden
Where me and my love did meet,
As we set there a courtin',
My love fell off to sleep.

I had a bottle of burgundy wine,
My love she did not know.
So I poisoned that dear little girl
On the banks below.

I drew a saber through her,
It was a bloody knife,
I threw her in the river,
Which was a dreadful sight
My father oft had told me
That money would set me free

If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly.


By.... Traditional
( NIck Cave...etc.)