It was just before the moon hung Her weary heavy head in The gallows and the graves of The milky milky cradle His tears have turned to poppies A shimmer in the midnight A flower in the twilight A flower in the twilight
And our screaming Is in his screaming Our screaming in the willow
They took him to the gallows He fought them all the way though And when they asked us how we knew his name We died just before him Our eyes are in the flowers Our hands are in the branches Our voices in the breezes
And our screaming Is in his screaming Our screaming in the willow tree
We're waiting by the willow Our milky milky cradle Our lockets long have rusted His picture worn and weathered Our hair is in the garden Our voices in our toeses Our heart are in the blossoms Our eyes are in the branches
And our screaming Is in his screaming Our screaming in the willow tree
