The Flowers On Her Grave Have Withered Away

[jack_babalon]

Poor Ellen Smith
~?~

Poor little Ellen, sweet as a rose
How I love my Ellen, there ain't nobody knows
Ain't nobody knows
Poor Ellen Smith how was she found
Shot through the heart lying cold on the ground
Her clothes were all scattered and thrown on the ground
The blood marks the spot where poor Ellen was found

They pick up their rifles and hunted me down
They found me a-loafing in all around the town
They pick up her body and carried it away
And now she is sleeping in some lonesome old grave

I got a letter yesterday I read it today
The flowers on her grave have all faded away
Someday I'll go home and say when I go
On poor Ellen's grave pretty flowers I'll stow

I've been in this prison for twenty long years
Each night I see Ellen through my bitter tears
The warden just told me that soon I'll be free
To go to her grave 'neath that old willow tree

My days in this prison are ending at last
I'll never be free from the sins of my past
Poor Ellen Smith how was she found
Shot through the heart lying cold on the ground


I've had this song going through my head since I got to work. I'm flooded with images of a large willow tree, swaying on a moonlit night, where under the wide spread of silhouetted branches, a bed of withered roses lay on the bed of a simple grave. Maybe i'm just in one of those 'romantic' moods today. Where all I want to hear is American Troubadours, singing soft ballads of pistols, honor & love. The version above is just one variant on an old Bluegrass folk song, performed by the Kossoy Sisters. Anyway not much to say today, a gentle silence has settled over my inner dialogue. No letting the inner demons off the leash to run around & play in the backyard of my journal. It's a nice rainy day behind my eyes, and i'm snuggling by a warm fire lit my chimney soul. Sip tea slowly and watch the sky outside shift to Autumn.

Comments

This reminds me

[bookmonkey211.livejournal.com]

of a country album I saw at the library last night. The guy who gave it for the sale showed it to me b/c he thought I might want it because all the songs are about crime and murder (lovely how well my previous patrons knew my twisted sense of humor). And the cover was 70's awesome...A woman caught cheatin'...there was even plastic on the tacky lamp in the picture. I almost bought it for you just for the cover. Now that I read this song, I REALLY wish I did. Do you have a turn table?

Don't worry, albums go for a buck at the PT Library.

Re: This reminds me

[jackbabalon23.livejournal.com]

Appreciate the thought, but alas all my musick is digital. However i've been contemplating collecting records and framing them. Lord knows I might still have a bunch of water damaged early HC albums in one of those boxes i've dragged with me.

[rubberdux.livejournal.com]

That's a lovely little murder ballad.

[jackbabalon23.livejournal.com]

I think so too. Weird thing is I can't find the same two lyrics anywhere I look for it... Oh well. Have a safe flight back from Kafkaland hon.