there was no other girl in the country in the country there was no thief when are you coming to boston miss mary a long way from home and the first time that i met you you were standing alone on the steps confused ragged and barefoot you ve taken whatever sound the dead march take me to the churchyard for all that i m worth my poor head is aching my poor heart is breaking now you re raking me over with earth you gave me a line of talk you wouldn t tell me your name there was a letter of ravens i guessed it was magdalene when i got to illinois asked a man they called the bartender which gold mines i should avoid she whispered softly in my ears that you can t get there from here i saw the cross on her chain had a hundred degrees below zero i died for that woman sound the dead march take me to the churchyard for all that i m worth my poor head is aching my poor heart is breaking now you re raking me over with earth at the top of the hill i ll be sleeping let the cold drown me in my bed the tomb stone for my pillow let the moonlight fall on my spread
['new americana']