Twas the night 'fore she vanished, she was dressed in all pink...
I thought I was only dreaming, because her hair smelled all sweet...
The sky was filled with starlight, and all had had their fill...
Yet this broad was bright as lily, and her smile was soft as silk.
Twas a night just as others, as I downed a pint of ale...
She sobbed and gently paced, neath the carefully stacked hay...
Her eyes seemed weak and shaky, like she'd drunk a river of ale...
But my God she still looked great, like from amber she was made...
I gulped that one last drink, as I sought all ways to be bold...
Coz I thought her hand I must hold, if this night should be foretold...
She turned and looked at me, as towards her I then rolled...
Then I caught her like a rope... just 'fore she hit the ground below...