A women sings a bittersweet tale
an old story, worn and frail
of a love, so tragic, so rare
the tale of a boy and girl and their passionate affair
torn apart by life's cruel hands
wondering in desperation for each other across the lands
they plotted to meet before the rising sun
but one was forever delayed by a barrel of a gun
she waited desperately for him to show
and her poor soul died never to know
if you go to the old oak tree
before the rising sun
you will hear her whispering
"I'm here, darling. Let's run."
*i.c.d