Lyrics of 'The Five Sisters' by American Murder Song

Nineteen souls left camp at first light
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, nineteen souls left camp at first light
Two men red and twelve men white
And we five sisters along for the plight
Spinning a quilt on a loom

Fourteen lads they led on the trail
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, fourteen lads they led on the trail
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven
Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen)
When the oxen and wagons and weather did fail
Yet we five sisters were plucky and hale
Humming a widowy tune

Two of the lads had holes in their shoes
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, two of the lads had holes in their shoes
(One, two, three, four, five, six
Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve)
And their toes went black and their soles went blue
Yet we five sisters as well-heeled as Jews
Danced in the light of the moon

Three of the lads came down with a cough
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, three of the lads came down with a cough
(Two, four, six, eight, nine)
And they wheezed in fits 'til their heads fell off
Yet we five sisters were twirling aloft
Riding the stick of a broom

One of the lads went mad in the night
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, one of the lads went mad in the night
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight)
And he cut off his clothes and his beard with a knife
Yet we five sisters were bundled up tight
And slept like a babe in a womb

Two of the lads went thin as a bone
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, two of the lads went thin as a bone
(One, two, three, four, five, six)
And their tongues went thick and their guts went moan
Yet we five sisters knew nary a groan
And purred like a black cat in June

Two of the lads, they picked up a gun
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, two of the lads, they picked up a gun
(One, two, three, four)
And shot down the hill where the other two ran
Yet we five sisters, as pious as nuns
Blushed as the powder went boom!

Boom

The last two lads were a murderous sight
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, the last two lads were a murderous sight
(One, two)
And tore at the Miwoks for liver and lights
Yet we five sisters, so prim and polite
Sat with a napkin and spoon

One by one, they all met their fate
Sing toil and trouble and doom
Yes, one by one, they all met their fate
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven
Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen)
Fourteen lads, so grave and so great
Yet we five sisters, with veils and with plates
Lay down a quilt on their tomb

One, two, three, four, five