The Ghost On Bonham Hill

Many years ago, On a night so cold and still; Vigilante justice, Took place on Bonham Hill Gathered all in numbers, With torches held in hand; No shred of heart's compassion, They lynched an innocent man Idle rumors echoed, Throughout the lowly town; Before the night had fallen; Blood would soak the ground I've often heard the story, A fertile pack of lies; Such petty tales of rubbish, 'Til I saw those daunting eyes In the town of Lazy Willow, At the foot of Bonham Hill; Before the hour of midnight, To the place where blood had spilled Glaring beneath the moonlight, Eyes fixed upon the tree; I saw a haunting figure, Staring down at me His clothes were worn and tattered, With pain refrained by tears; And there before my doubting eyes, He slowly disappeared An ugly page in history, Where ignorance held its fill; Etched in my mind for eternity, Is the ghost on Bonham Hill