Gill Landry Magdalene
There was no other girl in the country, in the country there was no thief
When are you coming to Boston, Miss Mary a long way from home
And the first time that I met you, you were standing alone on the steps
Confused, ragged and barefoot, you've taken whatever
Sound the dead march, take me to the churchyard for all that I'm worth
My poor head is aching, my poor heart is breaking
Now you're raking me over with earth
You gave me a line of talk, you wouldn't tell me your name
There was a letter of Ravens, I guessed it was Magdalene
When I got to Illinois asked a man they called the bartender
Which gold mines I should avoid
She whispered softly in my ears, that you can't get there from here
I saw the cross on her chain had a hundred degrees below zero
I died for that woman
Sound the dead march, take me to the churchyard for all that I'm worth
My poor head is aching, my poor heart is breaking
Now you're raking me over with earth
At the top of the hill I'll be sleeping, let the cold drown me in my bed
The tomb stone for my pillow, let the moonlight fall on my spread
