The Deepwater Drownings, Part I

Things crawl in ditches
While the bitter brewing witches
Plot potions of havoc and love

A miasma of midges
A gravedigger itches
A lantern, a fur trimmed glove

Down in the hollow
Where they buried Tom Swallow
A serpent writhes in wet earth

While the creak of the gallows
All moonlit and sallow
Gives verse to the scarecrow's mad mirth

There's a dirge being played
Mist-muffled and vague
Called the Deepwater Drownings by some

It's a low mournful sound
For they never were found
Not a single one

Whippoorwill's whisper the day
Beat the drum
The pipes will themselves play

The Deepwater Drownings
Fade away

Whippoorwill's whisper the day
Beat the drum
The pipes will themselves play

The Deepwater Drownings
Fade away



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