In the Almsyard - Stephin Merritt

She never leaves the almshouse, she’s too old

Out in the almsyard, tots with hair of gold

Romp and frolic, twitter twitter, gaily clad

Yet all their carefree laughter makes her sad

Those babes would play elsewhere

Did they but know about the tiny girl who lies below

Buried alive years ago by unknown knave

Seduced with toys and candy to her grave