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Down at the Gallows

The morning they lead me on down to the gallows

I watched the last sunrise that I’d ever see.

‘Cause yesterday’s gone, and I’ve got no tomorrows.

I pray that the hangman has mercy on me.

The maiden in black she waits down at the gallows

Her handkerchief covers those eyes I’ve deceived.

She lives out her days in confusion and sorrow.

She knows that the hangman is coming for me.

Windmills carry me home. Windmills carry me home.

Windmills carry me home, far from the fire below.

They fastened my collar that hung from the gallows

With tightly wound coils that numbered thirteen.

The apple went rotten, and I blindly followed

To find that the hangman was waitin’ on me.

So, after my body’s cut down from the gallows

And buried beneath the old sycamore tree.

My spirit shall wander the outskirts of Limbo

‘Cause finally the hangman has caught up with me.

Windmills carry me home. Windmills carry me home.

Windmills carry me home, far from the fire below.