There is a boy from Flanders,
Who whistles everywhere he wanders.
He knows every tune,
Only silent at noon,
That little boy, from Flanders.
But at noon he's silent,
he might even turn violent,
If you disturb him at that time.
You might think it's weird,
but he should be feared,
for he commited a serious crime.
He once loved a girl,
she was a true pearl,
But she didn't love him back
At first he was sad,
then he got mad,
and his mind got slightly of track.
He whistled a melody,
as he planned his tragedy,
and started sharpening his knife.
He went to her nest,
stabbed her in the chest,
and took away her life
She died at noon,
The day of the full moon.
He lost his humanity,
and replaced it with insanity.
He's been killing since,
The Reaper's Prince,
always whistling out loud,
Only at twelve no sound,
For then he starts to doubt.
Should he have asked her instead,
For now she is dead,
And He'll never see her again.
He remembers her death,
how she breathed her last breath,
while whispering
I do love you, silly thing.
For the girl did love him,
She thought he was hot.
yet her friends didn't like him,
and told her he was not.
She took their advice,
though her heart was beating,
to him she was ice,
While it was herself she was cheating.
So next time you hear,
a boy coming near,
Whistling a song,
Tell him he was wrong,
And he should have asked her once more.
There is a boy from Flanders,
Who whistles everywhere he wanders.
He knows every tune,
Only silent at noon,
That little boy, from Flanders.
FrankConnor