The Undertaker's Daughter

Once upon a time

In a faraway place

There's a tiny town

No one thought to name

On the outskirts of the town

Tucked beneath the willow trees

Silent as death

Was a small cemetary

The undertaker's daughter was a maiden most fair

With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair

Day after day, she learned her father's trade

Day after day, she wandered to the graves

Alone in the corner

Where the light did not shine

Was an angel made of stone

Who looked up to the sky

Her hands folded in a prayer

Her feet covered in grime

And laying upon them

Was a plaque old as time

The undertaker's daughter had wandered there

With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair

She looked to the plaque, and she thought it was odd

She looked to the plaque,and the grave's name was gone

Everyday from then on

The daughter went there

To the grave with the angel

With the plaque that was bare

Sitting there all alone

The daughter thought that it was sad

No one ever brought flowers

There were no gifts to be had

One day the daughter

Went to the seaside

She played in the sand

With the sun shining bright

While hunting around

The daughter had found

A seashell so beautiful

Pearly and round

The undertaker's daughter had searched through there

With her rosy cheeks and long flaxen hair

She wanted more, of those lovely seashells

And she wanted more, and she had a plan, as well

The undertaker's daughter was maiden most fair

With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and her long flaxen hair

A gift for the grave, with no name in sight

A gift for the grave, these seashell so bright

The undertaker's daughter had left them there

Back when she had rosy cheeks and long flaxen hair

Now she was gone, but though t'was so long ago

The seashell still shined

The grave was not alone

The grave was not alone

The grave was not alone