Her Shoes Still Tied | A Southern Gothic Ghost Ballad — Sasperela Rue

Willow Grove, Tennessee, sat on the Obey River until 1943. Then the Army Corps built Dale Hollow Dam, and the lake came up over the mill and the church and the school. The water runs to a hundred and thirty feet. Divers still go down looking for the town. This is a song about who's down there with them. An Appalachian ghost ballad. Sung in the voice of Sasperela Rue. Songs by Elizabeth Ola Belle Fontaine. Every word written by hand — the grief is real. Listen on Spotify. ============================== HER SHOES STILL TIED The Iron Creek runs swift and cold Beside the weeping willow trees, Through corn and hay and burley fields That sway in every summer breeze. Now Jim walks each day along the bank, With Darla, sweetest love he's known, For the shadows she loves the best Beneath the trees they call their own. One twilight Darla went on the creek, 'Neath willow boughs she last was seen. They only found her gown on the bank, Her shoes still tied upon the green. I came to walk in your willow grove. Oh home, why did you leave for good. Deep water hides your branches, long drowned. Cold water where my church house stood. Oh no, your willow trees are weeping Tears deep as a lake hollowed out. All that, for one hundred thirty feet. Yet from the depths, your voices shout. Willow, Willow, Willow. Oh my, Willow Grove. Now daily Jim catches bass for her. "I'll cook her favorite; she'll want some." Oh, he looks and looks and looks for her. He calls her name; she never comes. Uncle Sam dams up Dale Hollow. They say, leave this place or you'll drown. What will we do with poor Willow Grove? They mean to wash away our town. Picnic on school grounds, then we'll go No more to mill and church and store. Our homes are gone forever. Farewell To willow trees along the shore. Then came a shout at the waterline. Jim! "Here's the creek where Darla stayed." "And this here's where I'll stay with her." So in a water's grave he was laid. I came to walk in your willow grove. Oh home, why did you leave for good. Deep water hides your branches, long drowned. Cold water where my church house stood. Oh no, your willow trees are weeping Tears deep as a lake hollowed out. All that, for one hundred thirty feet. Yet from the depths, your voices shout. Willow, Willow, Willow. Oh my, Willow Grove. To this day, a man appears at night. "I'll cook her favorite; she'll want some." He casts his line into the water. He calls her name; she never comes. He walks right into the deep water, His feet don't stir the surface there. "Darlin', let's rest under willow boughs While I sing to you sweet and fair:" I came to walk in your willow grove. Oh home, why did you leave for good. Deep water hides your branches, long drowned. They dammed the Obey where we stood. Oh no, your willow trees are weeping Tears deep as a lake hollowed out. All that, for one hundred thirty feet. Yet from the depths, your voices shout. — These recordings involve generative AI. #ghostballad #revenge #americana #folksong #singersongwriter