The Decemberists Follow

Eli, the barrow boy

Of the old town

Sells coal and marigolds

And he cries out

All down the day

Below the tamaracks

He is crying:

“Corn cobs and candle wax for the buying?

All down the day

“Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe

Made of gold and silk Arabian thread

But she is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove

And I must push my barrow all the day

And I must push my barrow all the day?

Eli, the barrow boy

When they found him

Dressed all in corduroy

He had drowned in

The river down the way

They laid his body down in a church yard

But still when the moon is out

With his push cart

He calls down the day

“Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown

Made of gold and silk Arabian thread

But I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground

And still I push my barrow all the day

Still I push my barrow all the day?