Paroles: Decemberists. Picaresque. Eli, The Barrow Boy.

Eli, the barrow boy of the old town
Sells coal and marigolds and he cries out all down the day
Below the tamaracks he 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 church yard
But still when the moon is out with his push cart 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
And still I push my barrow all the day
Still I push my barrow all the day?