Dead men, dead men, swinging in a tree How many dead men do you see? Tongue turned blue and face gone gray Watch them as they twist and sway The first one killed the butcher man Then cooked him in the frying pan Served him to his hungry guests And gave them seconds on request The next one with his smile and sweets Stole poor children off the streets To men who dressed unsavory He sold them into slavery Breaking into homes at night The thief he had a nasty fright Filled his foolish head with ale Woke in the morn in the county jail The artist with his daunting skill Tried his hand at painting bills But caught in rain he was undone When the ink hed use did start to run With promises of great return Taking gold he did not earn Bundled it up out of sight And quietly slipped off into the night Three houses into ashes burned The sheriff with no place to turn Did spy a stranger in his town Locked him up and beat him down Dead men, dead men, swinging in a tree How many dead men do you see? Six feet long and six men wide Round their necks the noose be tied
Posted on: Mon, 15 Sep 2014 05:46:51 +0000
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