Cursed Six Strings

When I die let me fly seven miles high on wings Not six in the ground with his cursed six strings Not six in the ground with his cursed six strings A poor young rambler courted me He sang me songs as he strummed his six strings Well, I gave him my heart He placed his silver ring on my finger Well two become one and our daughter made three But the rambler would sing of his great destiny He said 'babe I must wander this world, but I'll be home come winter' And I say aye, aye I kissed him goodbye I watched him go on with a tear in my eye He walked miles and miles, the song he did sing He rambled and picked at them cursed six strings He rambled and picked them strings over me The days grew short and the nights they grew cold My rambler he died And all they sent home For his next of kin were them cursed six strings in a casket Well, I dug a grave six feet in the ground So them buried six strings could not make a sound And my shovel struck oil And our soil was poisoned with Plazma And I sing aye, aye O'dessa my child I wish I could fly, feathers in my spine I would rise seven miles up to heaven above To be with my rambler, my darling true love To be with my love, my one and only one