He arrived in '72 Hollowed eyes and everyone knew He was running He was scared Made plane to that 730 mine Did well busting rocks in the pines That silver and gold Was all a young man could want In the evenings you'd hear him play His fiddle rings to the end of day He was digging for the plans they made He was digging his own grave Where's your love, Mr. Griffin? It's been rumored that she died The night before your wedding day Is that right, Mr. Griffin? Does that fiddle prior hurting tune On the tune of the murdering hand He stayed away from the girls and the booze All the things he thought he might loose All that money he made Or the secrets he kept One June night, lord, that fiddle play was hot Then the valley rang out with a shot When we found him, he was face down In the hole he had dug They still say you can hear him play His fiddle rings through the end of day He was digging for his debt to pay He was digging his own grave Where's your love, Mr. Griffin? It's been rumored that she died The night before your wedding day Is that right, Mr. Griffin? Does that fiddle prior hurting tune On the tune of a murdering hand Mr. Griffin Does that fiddle prior hurting tune On the tune of a murdering hand Murdering hand