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The Peculiar Pretzelmen
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Undertaker
Undertaker, undertaker, who you burying today?
What little soul done left us looking for some better place?
When they laid them in the ground what's the last thing they did say?
Not exactly spoken but just whispered 'cross the grave
Was it a cry of broken sorrow? A sigh of great relief?
Or just the sound that fatal weapon made when pushed back in its sheath?
Undertaker, undertaker, who you burying today?
What name upon that tombstone has you shaken in this way?
Esmeralda Tempranillo - she was the jewel of this whole town
Her smile could stop a thunderstorm for several miles around
Undertaker, undertaker, I ain't one for the rumor mill
But I heard she had a cheating heart and that heart it got her killed
She was married to the governor's son, as rich as he was mean
And though the bells tolled out for her today he's nowhere to be seen
Undertaker, undertaker, what was that pretty girl's name?
The one I saw you with just weeks ago, she was sweet as sugarcane
You were sticking to the shadows as you weaved across the square
Stealing kisses away from streetlamps, her face hidden in her hair
Undertaker, undertaker, just how do you suspect
A pretty girl like Esmeralda should end in such distress?
Her husband was a jealous man, took to drunken rage
The whole town knew to turn around when he would walk their way
I heard he saw her lover's note written on a hymnal page
Found out she had gone to church for more than just to pray
And as she bled to death he swore he'd have revenge
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But she took with her her lover's name when from this world she went
Undertaker, undertaker, who you carrying them flowers for?
Are they for that pretty girl that I don't see you with no more?
What ever happened, did you hold her hand too tight?
Sit a bit too close in that cool dark summer night?
I guess you're just too busy putting bones down in the ground
To let yourself get caught out there dancing around
With pretty girls on moonlit nights, who never say their name
Who disappear with fearful eyes when the hour gets too late
Undertaker, undertaker, nobody thinks it's right
The husband was caught that very night still carrying the knife
But the constable and council absolved him of all guilt
Right there in the courthouse that his father's money built
Undertaker, undertaker, think we'll ever know the man
That set Esmeralda's heart so free and proved to be her end?
Undertaker, undertaker, who harbors the most blame?
The one who killed to keep her or the one that lured her away?
Spirits don't tend to slumber gently when tucked in before their time
There's no ghost that loves a haunting more than one born in violent crime
Maybe she'll be back one day; she'll point and she will stare
Disappearing in the shadows as she weaves across the square
Disappearing in the shadows, disappearing in the shadows
Disappearing in the shadows as she weaves across the square
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