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• Artiste: American Murder Song
• Titre: Johnny
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Out in the wood Where the children play The children play The children play Out in the wood Where the children play The cock crows every morning All of the boys In their skeleton suits Had gathered 'round a mound of roots Muddy the cross As black as their boots Planted and bloodied and warning Pale little bonnets They tried to peek They tried to peek They tried to peek Pale little bonnets They tried to peek The cock crows every morning "Tell us o dear brothers What does not sleep? But hides under the cross's keep? Small is the grave And none too deep Who are we, brothers, here mourning?" Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny can't be saved Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny, quiet grave Each of the boys Made his hand a spade His hand a spade His hand a spade Each of the boys Made his hand a spade The cock crows every morning They feel in a heap To claw at the mud That dyed their knees And sleeves in rud Shoveled until The ground bore blood With all the blowflies swarming Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny can't be saved Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny, quiet grave Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny can't be saved Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny, quiet grave Poked at the grave 'Til it bared its bones It bared its bones It bared its bones Poked at the grave 'Til it bared its bones The cock crows every morning Finches and meadowlark Fowl and wren With twisted beaks And eyes of tin Feathers as red As an Indian's skin Savage and painted and warring Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny can't be saved Where, o where is Quiet Johnny? Quiet Johnny, quiet grave Johnny was quiet And odd and grim And odd and grim And odd and grim None of us do ever talk to him The cock crows every morning