Bury me beneath the willow   'Neath that weeping willow tree   When she comes she'll find me sleeping   Then perhaps she?ll think of me      It?s many a night while you?re sleeping   Sleeping in your sleeping clothes   I?m a poor boy, broken hearted   Listenin? to the wind that blows      Bury me beneath the willow   'Neath that weeping willow tree   When she comes she'll find me sleeping   Then perhaps she?ll think of me      Tomorrow was to be our wedding   God, oh Lord, where can she be   She has gone to find another   She no longer cares for me      Bury me beneath the willow   'Neath that weeping willow tree   When she comes she'll find me sleeping   Then perhaps she?ll think of me