As the wind blows you can hear her name, echoing on in the breeze
She died alone without a hand to hold left in a shallow grave covered in leaves
One December morning a Christmas storm no warning
Water in the creek had barely begun to freeze
This is the tale of Hanley Rose
She died too soon but sometimes that's just way it goes
Some die young most of us grow old
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
Spring thaw came too early
Water rose up and flooded the fields
They found her body now her family can mourn the wounds that never quite heal
Her mother kept her room just exactly how she left it
She won't ever be back but they will never forget her
This is the tale of Hanley Rose
She died too soon sometimes that's just way it goes
Some die young most of us grow old
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
This is the tale of Hanley Rose
She died too soon sometimes that's just way it goes
Some die young most of us grow old
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
This is the tale of Hanley Rose
She died too soon sometimes that's just way it goes
Some die young most of us grow old
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
Just another tragic tale poor Hanley Rose
