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The Ballad of John McCrae
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On the banks of, the Missouri
Annie washed up in the clay
And they took her, to her father
Told him it was John McCrae
Now I'm running, through the Badlands
Covering my tracks
Northward, toward Dakota
With the devil on my back
Oh, the river flows
To our (To our immortal)
Immortal (It flows to our home)
Oh Annie, oh my soul
Now I took her down by the stream side
For to make that girl my bride
But in the folds of her pretty white dress
Lay her father's bowie knife
Well she pulled that, steel blade on me
Told me she would take my life
So I pushed her, down in the river
She went under with the tide
Oh, the river flows
To our (To our immortal)
Immortal (It flows to our) home
Oh Annie, oh my soul
Now the hound dogs, they overtook me
40 miles past Harding town
And I told that, young Douglas sheriff
"Boy, you'd better shoot me now."
He said "Poor Johnny, by my orders
Your life I cannot take
But I'll be smiling, at your hanging
When they lay you in the grave."
Oh, the river flows
To our (To our immortal)
Immortal (It flows to our) home
Oh Annie, oh my soul
I am standing, at the gallows
And the scaffold it is high
And the hangman, he asked my last words
Before I'm condemned to die
And I begged God, "Don't forgive me
For the troubles I have sown
For I'll soon see, my pretty Annie
In the hell fires down below."
Oh, the river flows
To our (To our immortal)
Immortal (It flows to our) home
Oh Annie, oh my soul
Oh Annie, oh my soul
Oh Annie, oh my soul