Eli, The Barrow Boy - The Decemberists

Eli, the Barrow Boy, from the old town

Sells coal and marigolds and he cries out all down the day

Below the Tamarac she is crying

Corn cobs and candle wax for the buying, all down the day

Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe

Made of gold and silk Arabian thread

She is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove

And I must push my barrow all the day

And I must push my barrow all the day

Eli, the Barrow Boy, when they found him

Dressed all in corduroy, he had drowned in the river down the way

They laid his body down in a churchyard

But still when the moon is out, with his pushcart,

He calls down the day

Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown

Made of gold and silk Arabian thread

But I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground

But still I push my barrow all the day

So I push my barrow all the day

Oooh…

So I push my barrow all the day…