| My love asked me, to take a walk
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| Just to walk, a little way
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| And as we walked along we talked
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| Of when would be our wedding day
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| We walked beneath the whispering pines
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| His heart was filled with love divine
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| And as we neared the riverside
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| He asked me when I’d be his bride
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| Oh no your bride, I’ll never be
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| Another one’s prepared for me
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| And as I drew my hand from his
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| His heart was filled with fire divine
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| He drew his knife across my breast
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| And in his arms I gently pressed
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| Willy dear, don’t murder me
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| For I am not prepared to die
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| He took me by my golden curls
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| He drug me down to the riverside
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| And as he threw me into drown
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| He watched me as I floated down
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| He started home 'tween twelve and one
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| Thinking on the deed he’d done
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| Murdered just the one he loved
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| Because I would not be his bride |