The Felice Brothers
Hawthorne
In the graveyard, the hawthorn grows
And that's where I want to be
Don't you follow me
Through the hawthorn, the cold wind blows
Freely and wild
Like a human child
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any wine?
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any mind?
Wine? Mind? Have you got any?
In the graveyard, the senator sleeps
And he dreams of golden heights
And devilish delights
In his casket, he dines on snails
Centipedes and snails
The tongues of nightingales
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any tea?
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any for me?
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any home?
Yes sir, yes sir, where the angels roam
Home, my home