Ripped from my outstretched arms,
O her weakness for worldly charms!
Serpentina Root and ribs entwine
As I dream of her moonlit eyes.
So don't cremate me when I'm gone,
I won't be gone for long.
I'm a sinner in the hands of an angry God
Stick me in the ground and let me rot.
Where the grass don't grow
And the leaves don't lie
And their worm dyeth not.
Just call me "Ichabod."
O hearken the boneyard bells!
The tintinnabulation of Hell.
I'll come creepin' out of a dead chimney
With the turn of a skeleton key.
Take the long way around Mt. Zion,
Opt out of the Ramsom'd Choir.
No Glory, divine amazing grace
Just to waft through her window lace.
Where the grass don't grow
And the leaves don't lie A
nd their worm dyeth not.
Just call me "Ichabod."