Lying in the brook she's naked

Cold and dead, raped and broken

Sweet Maude Bowen victim of a man

By her side does lie her rapist

Her mother's brother, cold as she is

An avenging angel's arrow in his heart

And the squire he does blame her

With his lies he does shame her

Sweet Maude Bowen shamed a suicide

Now here is a tale, a story to be told

Of a young girl, but fifteen years old

Impaled as a vampire, her mother burned as a witch

Now these were the crimes, the crimes of the rich



At the cross-roads they impaled her

With the elm they claim to save her

Save her soul from Satan's evil lair

Now her mother weeps in madness

At the tree, at the crossroads

The tree that grows from sweet Maude Bowen's heart

The squire's men do taunt and tease her

Drag her off the grave and jeer her

Then one more dies with an arrow in his heart



Now here is a tale, a story to be told

Of a young girl, but fifteen years old

Impaled as a vampire, her mother burned as a witch

Now these were the crimes, the crimes of the rich



Up before the judge at Gloucester

Acused a witch now they will burn her

At the tree at the cross-roads will she die

Tied to the elm the faggots smoking

Maude's sweet mother crying, choking

Mother, daughter, victims of a man

And the squire he stands there laughing

With his men he's laughing, joking



Then he is dead with an arrow in his heart



Now here is a tale, a story to be told

Of a young girl, but fifteen years old

Impaled as a vampire, her mother burned as a witch

Now these were the crimes, the crimes of the rich