The Ballad of Sarah Pike

This is the tale of Sarah Pike Who lived in a cottage at Hangman’s Dyke, Twixt Preston and old Burnblack town She walked the byways up and down. Travellers stopped to buy her pies And kissed her hands with gracious goodbyes Till a gentleman rider on his tall chestnut steed Strangled her dead in his wicked deed. Sarah Pike will never go home, Sarah Pike forever will roam. For four hundred years she walks just the same The road wide and busy with a new name But many have driven home in great fright When they saw Sarah Pike cross the road in the night. A strange ghostly figure she sobs and she cries Lost in her sorrow she moans and she sighs And no-one can save her from her ghastly pain For the old ones are gone and so is the lane. Sarah Pike will never go home, Sarah Pike forever will roam.