In the farthermost corner
of Sycamore Hill,
a stone marks
the grave of Jacob Swill.
People came from far and wide
to watch him hang,
to see him die.
Many remember the last thing he said,
"God have mercy on you all"
And then he was dead.
Jacob lived at the bottom of
Sycamore Hill
in a house that was only
held together by will.
He stayed to himself,
making no friends.
He was often seen standing in the yard
listening to the wind.
He said it spoke to him,
of things better left unsaid.
Of evil and hatred,
and the dreams of the dead.
The dead were making plans,
he was often heard saying.
Of taking over,
Of people paying….
For deeds committed,
For sins unforgiven.
The dead were going
to exact vengeance on the living!
He said it was going to be soon,
and people better prepare.
But no one listened, no one cared.
"Forget about arming yourselves,
you’re better off to pray."
For what you’ll be facing,
no gun can put away.
The dead were all waiting
the night that Jacob died…
To welcome him to the fold
to bring him to their side.
The night was windy,
a chill on the air.
The townsfolk were sleeping,
and completely unaware.
The dead arose,
and with Jacob at the lead,
massacred the town..
everyone but me.
I tell my tale
far and wide.
Of the dead walking,
of seeing the other side.
If only they would listen,
and do what’s right
the dead would remain sleeping,
and not haunt the night.
Instead of heeding my warnings,
they locked me in this room.
Through my window I hear the dead whispering,
speaking of the coming doom!