Eliza Rickman

Cry baby cry,Over my garden,You know,You grow,Your own,Lay lady lay,Under my bed,You know,I’ll grow,My own,Don’t let him know,Don’t let it show,Reap what you sow,Take this black rose,Stay lady stay,Cross my backdoor,You know,You grow,Your own,Pray baby pray,Over our sins,And know,We’

«Good luck», said the nightmareSo pretty but I already haveA house with a top hat and coatrackWell, your hand’s on his shoulderYou never did have feelingsAnd oh, you’d best get alongYou’d better runHer heart’s got a picture frameI guess you fit quite nicelyAlthough she’