Down in the willow garden
Where me and my true love did meet
It was there we were courtin'
My love fell off to sleep

I laid 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 drew my saber through her
It was a bloody knife
I threw her into the river
It was an awful sight
My father often told me
That money would set me free
If I would murder that poor little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly

Now he stands at his cabin door
Wiping his tears from his eyes
Gazing on his own dear son
Upon the scaffold high

My race is run beneath the sun
The devil is waiting for me
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Charlie Monroe