Down in the willow garden
Where me and my true love did meet
It was there we went a courting
My love fell off to sleep
I had a bottle of burgundy wine
My true love she did not know
It was there I murdered that dear little girl
Down on the banks below
I stabbed her with my dagger which was a bloody knife.
I threw her into the river, which was a dreadful sight.
My father often told me that money would set me free.
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly.
And now he sits in his cottage door, wiping his weeping eye.
And now he waits for his own dear son
upon the scaffold high.
My race is run beneath the sun, cruel hell is waiting for me,
for I have murdered my own true love,
Whose name was Rose
Connelly.
