Well, marry me
To a rope and a tree
What that ol' judge called first degree
And all the folks around town
Swore to lay me in the ground
When they found out I'd put that poor boy down
You see, I did not much care
For the way that he'd sit and glare
So I closed his eyes for good with a bar-room chair
So, go and lay my poor bones
Past Appalachian stone
Far beneath that cold ground all alone
Oh, but if you're asking me
Where I would rather be
It was worth it to see that boy cut from the knees
