The Undertaker's Daughter

Once upon a time
In a faraway place
There's a tiny town
No one thought to name

On the outskirts of the town
Tucked beneath the willow trees
Silent as death
Was a small cemetary

The undertaker's daughter was a maiden most fair
With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair
Day after day, she learned her father's trade
Day after day, she wandered to the graves

Alone in the corner
Where the light did not shine
Was an angel made of stone
Who looked up to the sky

Her hands folded in a prayer
Her feet covered in grime
And laying upon them
Was a plaque old as time

The undertaker's daughter had wandered there
With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair
She looked to the plaque, and she thought it was odd
She looked to the plaque,and the grave's name was gone

Everyday from then on
The daughter went there
To the grave with the angel
With the plaque that was bare

Sitting there all alone
The daughter thought that it was sad
No one ever brought flowers
There were no gifts to be had

One day the daughter
Went to the seaside
She played in the sand
With the sun shining bright

While hunting around
The daughter had found
A seashell so beautiful
Pearly and round

The undertaker's daughter had searched through there
With her rosy cheeks and long flaxen hair
She wanted more, of those lovely seashells
And she wanted more, and she had a plan, as well

The undertaker's daughter was maiden most fair
With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and her long flaxen hair
A gift for the grave, with no name in sight
A gift for the grave, these seashell so bright

The undertaker's daughter had left them there
Back when she had rosy cheeks and long flaxen hair
Now she was gone, but though t'was so long ago
The seashell still shined
The grave was not alone
The grave was not alone
The grave was not alone