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Stick Stock
Emily Portman
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Stick, stock, stone, dead
Stick, stock, stone, dead
My stepmother slew me
My dear father ate me
Little brother whom I love
Sits below, I sing above
Stick, stock, stone, dead
My stepmother was beautiful
She stole my father's heart away
Wanted him all for herself
Wanted me out of the way
Stick, stock, stone, dead
My little brother he was born
With hair as black as the carrion crow
My hair grew gold as summer corn
She grew bitter as the snow
We played in the shade of the juniper tree
Like a raven and a dove
Stepmother's heart twisted like bark
'Til she had no room for love
Come in, come in my sweetie pies
Night is nearing, better beware
But before you sleep, Susie sweet
Let me comb your golden hair
Your lovely locks are full of knots
They will break my ebony comb
Fetch father's axe, a billet of wood
We'll cut the knots the wind has blown
That night, my brother had a dream
A white bird crying scarlet tears
In the morning when he woke
His tender heart was full of fear
My stepmother baked tender pies
Neat meat pies with crusts of gold
My father ate up every bite
Brother let his pies grow cold
Stick, stock, stone, cold
In the woods they found my bones
Buried them under the juniper tree
On my grave my brother weeps
Weeps until he cannot see
And I will sing my little song
To soothe my brother's tears away
To ring in my stepmother's ears
Until she turns into the clay
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