or
Tim O'Brien

I wish, I wish my baby was born
And sittin' on its papa's knee
And me, poor girl
And me, poor girl, were dead and gone
And the green grass growin' o'er my feet
I ain't ahead, nor never will be
'Till the sweet apple grows
On a the sour apple tree

But still I hope the time will come
When you and I shall be as one

I wish I wish my love had died
And sent his soul to wander free
Then we might need our ribbons five
Let our poor body rest in peace

The owl, the owl
Is a lonely bird
It chills my heart
With dread and terror
That someone's blood
There on his wings
That someone's blood
There on his feathers

Written by TWEEDY, JEFF / FARRAR, JAY STUART
Published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.