Dead men, dead men swinging in a tree
How many dead men do you see?
Tongue turned blue and face gone grey
Watch them as they twist and sway
The first one killed the butcher man
Then cooked him in the frying pan
Served him to his hungry guests
And gave them seconds on request
The next one with his smile and sweets
Stole poor children off the streets
To men who dressed unsavory
He sold them into slavery
Breaking into home at night
The thief he had a nasty fright
Filled his foolish head with ale
Woke in the morn in the county jail
The artist with his daunting skill
Tried his hand at painting bills
But caught in rain he was undone
When the ink he's use did start to run
With promises of great return
Taking gold he did not earn
Bundled it up out of sight
Quietly slipped off into night
Three houses into ashes burned
The sheriff with no place to turn
Did spy a stranger to his town
Locked him up and beat him down
Dead men, dead men swinging in a tree
How many dead men do you see?
Six feet long and six men wide
Round their necks the noose be tied
