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Marked By Great Size

O'er The Way

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From:
Marked By Great Size

words and music by Marc Gunn

Under dark moonless sky, he rode into the night
To See his love o'er the way.
(The) smell of flowers in the air, he passed not a care
Across a bridge o'that sad day.
When a shadow stepped from the rail, from his saddle he sailed,
And his horse rode off o'er the way.
As the man was caught off guard, the shadow struck him hard
And his hopes rode off o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.

Well a fire burned inside, and he beat the brigand thrice.
The hate consumed him o'er the way.
O' the man thought he had won, until he felt the brigand's song
Grab hold o'him o'er the way.
So the thief took his revenge, and he beat the man unending
With a cat o'nine tails o'er the way.
And he shrieked to the night, bloodied by the fight,
Like a cat he shriekd o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
Like a cat he shriekd o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
Like a cat he shriekd o'er the way.

Well the law followed that yell, saw the man lay where he fell.
Nothing left but the man's shell o'er the way.
As he layed the body to rest, the man's love clutcher her breasts
O' her heart was robbed and killed on that day.
And she breathed her last breath, and blood stained her dress
From the lashes that slew her man today.
As her body fell to the ground, there was an echoing howl
Of the hounds that howled for them o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
O' the hounds that howled for them o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
O' the hounds that howled for them o'er the way.

O' the door closed real fast, a brigand and his cash
That he robbed with his son o'er the way.
As the counted out their change, they shouted loud, unhallowed names
For they were made rich on that day.
Then the son went for his sister, found her dead with her blist ers
And the streaks of blood o'er the way.
O' her father couldn't stand, he found a picture in her hand...
It was the man they'd killed o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
It was the man they'd killed o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
It was the man they'd killed o'er the way.

KEY Dm

verse/chorus:
Dm A7 Dm Gm
Dm A7 Dm

Background: This was one of the first folk songs I ever wrote in a traditional style, and I have had more than one person ask if it was a traditional.

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