Willow Tree

There’s bones in my garden
Crying from the dirt
Their sordid little story
Unholy kind of hurt
I’m sitting in my kitchen
Can hear them howlin at the moon
Just may lose my mind
They don’t quiet down soon

Pretty Polly’s William
Wasn’t much a mate
Polly followed till the end
And suffered such a fate
I saw the bloody knife
And knew that we must part
When he wouldn’t let me go
I stabbed him in the heart

Reaper man come calling
Hear him knocking in the night
Come calling to collect
Before the morning light
Opened up the door
And let the man right in
Greet me with a smile
A knowing kinda grin

Shadows dance and flicker
As I’m guided by the moon
Beneath the willow tree
He’ll be sleeping soon
Bones say not a word
As I place them in the ground
Whiskey burns my throat
As I slowly drink it down

Now there’s bones in my garden
Crying from the dirt
Their sordid little story
Just may lose my mind