The Hanging Tree
The Hanging Tree
If trees could talk,
what a tale I'd tell
of that fateful night
and the lie dispel.
They hung that boy
from my strongest bough
for a grave misdeed
by a sacred cow...
The mayor's son
had a taste for brew
and a hankering
for the ladies, too,
And he was wont
to be denied
and once rejected,
to redeem his pride...
He forced himself
on Miss Sally May,
the sweet young daughter
of the Widow Fay.
When Miss Sally fought,
he lost control
and beat her with
a ranging pole.
He killed her first,
then, had his way,
and at my roots
he left her lay.
Now the sheriff owed
the mayor a debt,
who called it in
without the least regret.
It just so happened
the Widow's cook,
had an only son
with a peculiar look...
And the sheriff said,
"He done the deed...
He looks the type,
that's all the proof I need!"
Then a lynching mob,
on the sheriff's say,
strung that boy
from my bough that day.
Now, if trees could talk
what a tale I'd tell...
and I'd see 'em swing
from my bough, as well.
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