The hanged man

The hanged man hangs from the hanging tree,
Up on hang mans hill,
We watch him dangle in the breeze,
So deathly quietly still.

But sometimes he gets lonely,
And he calls out to the night,
With eyes cast down to the little old town,
He sings with all his might.

Come hang with me the hanged man,
I ask you to take your chances,
And we'll hang like Christmas baubles 
From the hanging trees best branches

Come hang with me the hanged man,
And i'll sway in the wind with thee,
The hang man makes a pretty rope necklace,
And our bodies will decorate the tree.