Isabel and the King

There's a lady, Spanish roses in her hair

And they cover the crown of thorns she wears

And the blood from her lips as she sings

Do it all for the glory of thee

And they carry her down, down, down

Down in the cold, cold, ground

By the river she used to pray

River now she will wait

For the king to come

And the boys who would crave her perfect skin

And she burned herself, she thought it would please him

And the iron chain spiked around her waist

And the poison that she used to hide her face

And they carry her down, down, down

Down in the cold, cold, ground

By the river she used to pray

River now she will wait

For the king to come

And she made a bed of broken glass and stone

She slept at night to prove the faith was strong

And when her broken body finally gave

There grew Spanish roses by her grave

And they carry her down, down, down

Down in the cold, cold, ground

By the river she used to pray

River now she will wait

For the king to come