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There was an old witch |
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Used to live in this house |
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Traveling havoc both north and south |
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Old witch living |
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In a post and beam house |
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And now I'm making it mine |
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Spirits in the rafters |
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Creak of old wood |
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And what if the banshee is alive and should |
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Come back to haunt me |
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With a gunpowder tin |
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I got a loaded revolver |
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And a rolling pin |
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Old road leads to not much of a place |
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Where a fresh young wife dare not show her face |
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New tracks in the snow |
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The buck and the doe |
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My only companions at forty below |
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There was an old witch |
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Used to live in this house |
|
Traveling havoc both north and south |
|
Old witch living |
|
In a post and beam house |
|
And now I'm making it mine |
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Old old house at the neck of the wood |
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In the pitch of the night where the tamarack stood |
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I hear of the witch used to live in the house |
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All the folks knew her for miles about |
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But now the house has come to my hands |
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The whistling wind and the whispering land |
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All mine for the taking |
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Come to my care |
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I look in the forest there are angels there |
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There was an old witch |
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Used to live in this house |
|
Traveling havoc both north and south |
|
Old witch living |
|
In a post and beam house |
|
And now I'm making it mine |
