"Lizbits",  Lizzie tunes

Mike Troy’s “Lizzie”

Although living in Somerset, Mike’s  a Fall River local and his folksy-bluesy original songs can be heard in many venues in the area.  The Belmont Club is a favorite haunt.  To hear a sampling of “Lizzie” (lyrics below) and to order Mike’s three CD’s visit his site at http://www.folkmichaeltroy.com/ “Lizzie” is on the Whispers in the Wind CD http://www.folkmichaeltroy.com/cdpage1.htm .  Great tunes- and a phenomenal guitarist!

Lizzie lyric and music by Mike Troy
Lizzie waits, a giggling child, in an excited sway.
They’ve loaded and hitched the wagon,
For the country summer stay.
The summer home is a City girl’s Camelot
It gets hot in the city. It gets hot.

Abby’s in the parlor with Uncle John and Daddy said
He’d put the Swansea farm in Abby’s name,
And Lizzie saw red.
Was the stone that honed the ax that played the plot,
It gets hot in the city. It gets hot.

I’m gonna take the wagon to the Swansea farm
And spend the day.
I got supplies, I got fishing line, I got sinkers
I got a friend of mine.
We’ll go wading in the Taunton River.
Daddy gave her everything she’d need
He went out of his way to give her.
He crept into her dreams sometimes in the
Black of night.
It gets hot in the city. It gets hot.

Revenge would feed a hungry heart that fatal day.
Abby went upstairs to make the guest room bed,
Destined to Pay
With her life for the love that a poor child never got.
It gets hot in the city. It gets hot.
Daddy come home, to her surprise,
A change in plan.
Well I got no time for alibis, he’s a suspicious man.
She took his coat. He took some time to relax.
She kissed his cheek. Then she gave him the ax.

I’m gonna take the wagon to the Swansea farm
And spend the day.
I got supplies, I got fishing line, I got sinkers
I got a friend of mine.
We’ll go wading in the Taunton River.
Daddy gave her everything she’d need
He went out of his way to give her.
He crept into her dreams sometimes in the
Black of night.
It gets hot in the city. It gets hot.

A brutal attack, a maniac, a wild goose chase.
Gave her time to shadow the mess,
Hide the ax, burn the dress,
A poor rich girl who cheated the hangman’s knot.
It gets hot in the city. It gets hot.

Lizzie died and the mourners came, too late again.
The funeral was held the night before
Under the cover of darkness by black clad men.
Why again it seemed she escaped the heat,
She’s in an unmarked grave at her father’s feet.

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