Cursed Six Strings

When I die let me fly seven miles high on wings

Not six in the ground with his cursed six strings

Not six in the ground with his cursed six strings

A poor young rambler courted me

He sang me songs as he strummed his six strings

Well, I gave him my heart

He placed his silver ring on my finger

Well two become one and our daughter made three

But the rambler would sing of his great destiny

He said 'babe I must wander this world, but I'll be home come winter'

And I say aye, aye I kissed him goodbye

I watched him go on with a tear in my eye

He walked miles and miles, the song he did sing

He rambled and picked at them cursed six strings

He rambled and picked them strings over me

The days grew short and the nights they grew cold

My rambler he died

And all they sent home

For his next of kin were them cursed six strings in a casket

Well, I dug a grave six feet in the ground

So them buried six strings could not make a sound

And my shovel struck oil

And our soil was poisoned with Plazma

And I sing aye, aye O'dessa my child

I wish I could fly, feathers in my spine

I would rise seven miles up to heaven above

To be with my rambler, my darling true love

To be with my love, my one and only one