The sun outside is shining, the air outside is warm,
But inside lonesome Anna's head worry brews a storm.
"The sun will turn my fair skin red; the air might make me sneeze.
I'd rather breath alone at home than outside with a wheeze."
Poor, lonesome Anna living on the hill,
Watching life pass her by from her windowsill.
The blades of grass are waiting to tickle Anna's feet.
The water's moving slow for her to wade in Miller's creek.
She said, "A danger lurks below the water and the glade:
Rusty nails to stop your step and lock your jaw in place."
Poor, lonesome Anna living on the hill,
Watching life pass her by from her windowsill.
Your beauty lures a suitor whose love won't be denied.
He sings beneath the windowsill, "Won't you come out tonight?"
"I fear that man's the devil, I see it in his eyes.
He plans to make me drunk and drag me off to my demise."
Poor, lonesome Anna,
Living on the hill watching life pass her by from her windowsill.
Soon the summer ended, then ten and twenty more,
And Anna spent each one of them afraid of the outdoors.
To sunshine, air, nails or men she thought she'd lose her life.
So it came as a shock when she succumbed to spider bite.
Poor, lonesome Anna lived up on the hill;
Watched as life passed her by from her windowsill.