Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
Stephin Merritt
She never leaves the almshouse, she's too old
Out in the almsyard, tots with hair of gold
Romp and frolic, twitter twitter, gaily clad
Yet all their carefree laughter makes her sad
Those babes would play elsewhere
Did they but know about the tiny girl who lies below
Buried alive years ago by unknown knave
Seduced with toys and candy to her grave