Graves Dug with a Silver Spoon

dark folk, murder ballad, gothic Appalachian Lyrics by Lucy, music by Suno Verse 1] In a stone cellar colder than the marriage bed She sat with the cake of rat-bane in her lap Scraping white flakes thin as a held breath While the rats watched from the dripping trap [Verse 2] Purple paper, scented soft as any lie She wrote to the lover who never came Of truffles and wine and the slow way a body Forgets the sound of its own name [Chorus] Sing low, sing low of the woman who scraped Of freedom that tasted like metal and dust Some graves are dug with a silver spoon Some are dug because no one would trust [Verse 3] They tested the corpse once — nothing at all Twice — still clean as a judge’s hands The third time the new science sang out loud And the courtroom wanted a Parisian stand [Verse 4] Did the powder do the work or the town That hated her silk and her careful vowels The letters burned, the château stayed cold And the white flakes kept their secrets in the bowls [Chorus] Sing low, sing low of the woman who scraped Of freedom that tasted like metal and dust Some graves are dug with a silver spoon Some are dug because no one would trust [Outro] Some graves are dug with a silver spoon Some are dug because no one would trust