down in the willow garden

down in the willow garden, where me and my love did meet, there we went a courting, my love fell off to sleep, i had a bottle of burgundy wine, which my love did not know, and there i poisoned that dear little girl, down by the banks below, i drew my saber through her, it was a bloody knife, i threw her into the river, it was an awful sight, my father often told me, that money would set me free, if i'd but murder that dear little girl, who's name was rose connely, now he sits at his cabin door, wiping his tear dimmed eye, wiping for his only son, upon the scaffold high, my race is run beneath the sun, the devil is waiting for me, for i murder that dear little girl, who's name was rose connely, my race is run beneath the sun, the devil is waiting for me, for i murder that dear little girl, who's name was rose connely