Once upon a time,
In a faraway place
There's a tiny town
That no one thought to name
On the outskirts of town,
Tucked beneath the willow trees
Silent as death,
Was a small cemetery
The undertaker's daughter was a maiden most fair
With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair
Day after day, she learned her father's trade
Day after day, she wandered to the graves
Alone in the corner,
Where the light did not shine
Was an angel made of stone
Who looked up to the sky
Her hands folded in prayer
Her feet covered in grime
And Laying upon them
Was a plaque as old as time
The undertaker's daughter had wandered there,
With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair
She looked to the plaque, and she thought it was odd
She looked to the plaque, and the grave's name was gone.
Everyday from then on,
The daughter went there,
To the grave with the angel,
With the plaque that was bare
Sitting there all alone,
The daughter thought that it was sad
No one ever brought flowers
There were no gifts to be had
One day the daughter
Had went to the seaside
Playing in the sand
With the sun shining bright
While hunting around
The daughter had found
A seashell so beautiful
Pearly and round
The undertaker's daughter had searched through there,
With her rosy cheeks and long flaxen hair
She wanted more, of those lovely seashells
And She wanted more, and she had a plan, as well...
The undertaker's daughter was a maiden most fair,
With her sweet rosy pink cheeks and long flaxen hair
A gift for the grave, with no name in sight
A gift for the grave, these seashell so bright...
The undertaker's daughter had left them there,
Back when she had rosy cheeks and long flaxen hair
Now she was gone, but though t'was so long ago
The seashell still shined,
The grave was not alone...
The grave was not alone...
The grave was not alone...