Never let the devil get the upper hand of you

My tender parents brought me up, provided for me well
Was in the city of Lanson town they placed me in a mill
It was there I spied a pretty fair miss on whom I cast my eye
I asked her if she'd marry me and she believed a lie

Three weeks ago last Saturday night, of course it was the day
The devil put it in my mind to take her life away
I went into her sister's house at eight o'clock one night
But little did the critter think on her I had my spite

I asked her if she'd take a walk with me a little way
That she and I might have a talk about our wedding day
We walked along until we came to my little desert place
I grabbed a stick off of a fence and struck her in the face

I run my fingers through her coal-black hair to cover up my sins
I drug her to the riverside and there I plunged her in
I started back unto my mill, I met my servant, John
He asked me why I was so pale and it so very warm