of the Williamson County Hotel
Lives a lady who sells her time
I've grown to know her quite well
Each Sunday, we'd find us
On a picnic by the river side
Down on Carter's Creek Pike
This Sunday, she acts different,
I feel there's something strange
Her lips began to speak an
I think that only more months ago,
I picked her blood red rose
Now the same hands that catered to her
are clutching at her throat
She struggled to find strength,
You're haunted and love will not die here,
I'll return to curse your dreams
So each night, in my dreams,
Down to the river that I could run to
And I'll ride this nightmare
all over Williamson County
The devil waits on my soul for his payment
I await the hunter of my bounty
