Once upon a time, in a faraway place There's a tiny town that no one thought to name
On the outskirts of the 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 a prayer Her feet covered in grime And Laying upon them was a plaque 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 Went to the seaside She played 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 maiden most fair, with her sweet rosy pink cheeks and her 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...