I wish, I wish my baby was born
And sitting on its papa's knee
And me, poor girl, were dead and gone
And the green grass growing over my feet
I ain't ahead, nor never will be
'Til the sweet apple grows
On 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 meet where ravens fly
Let our poor bodies rest in peace
The owl, the owl is a lonely bird
It chills my heart with dread and terror
That's someone's blood there on its wings
That's someone's blood there on its feathers
