Undertaker -

Undertaker, undertaker, who you burying today?

What little soul done left us looking for some better place?

When they laid them in the ground what’s the last thing they did say?

Not exactly spoken but just whispered 'cross the grave

Was it a cry of broken sorrow?

A sigh of great relief?

Or just the sound that fatal weapon made when pushed back in its sheath?

Undertaker, undertaker, who you burying today?

What name upon that tombstone has you shaken in this way?

Esmeralda Tempranillo — she was the jewel of this whole town

Her smile could stop a thunderstorm for several miles around

Undertaker, undertaker, I ain’t one for the rumor mill

But I heard she had a cheating heart and that heart it got her killed

She was married to the governor’s son, as rich as he was mean

And though the bells tolled out for her today he’s nowhere to be seen

Undertaker, undertaker, what was that pretty girl’s name?

The one I saw you with just weeks ago, she was sweet as sugarcane

You were sticking to the shadows as you weaved across the square

Stealing kisses away from streetlamps, her face hidden in her hair

Undertaker, undertaker, just how do you suspect

A pretty girl like Esmeralda should end in such distress?

Her husband was a jealous man, took to drunken rage

The whole town knew to turn around when he would walk their way

I heard he saw her lover’s note written on a hymnal page

Found out she had gone to church for more than just to pray

And as she bled to death he swore he’d have revenge

But she took with her her lover’s name when from this world she went

Undertaker, undertaker, who you carrying them flowers for?

Are they for that pretty girl that I don’t see you with no more?

What ever happened, did you hold her hand too tight?

Sit a bit too close in that cool dark summer night?

I guess you’re just too busy putting bones down in the ground

To let yourself get caught out there dancing around

With pretty girls on moonlit nights, who never say their name

Who disappear with fearful eyes when the hour gets too late

Undertaker, undertaker, nobody thinks it’s right

The husband was caught that very night still carrying the knife

But the constable and council absolved him of all guilt

Right there in the courthouse that his father’s money built

Undertaker, undertaker, think we’ll ever know the man

That set Esmeralda’s heart so free and proved to be her end?

Undertaker, undertaker, who harbors the most blame?

The one who killed to keep her or the one that lured her away?

Spirits don’t tend to slumber gently when tucked in before their time

There’s no ghost that loves a haunting more than one born in violent crime

Maybe she’ll be back one day;

she’ll point and she will stare

Disappearing in the shadows as she weaves across the square

Disappearing in the shadows, disappearing in the shadows

Disappearing in the shadows as she weaves across the square