Here you are, I have it by Ed McCurdy:

GREEN GROWS THE LAUREL

In Dublin's fair city, in Dublin's fair town,
There lived a young girl by the name of Miss Brown.
She courted a sailor for seven long years,
And from the beginning, he called her his dear.

One morning so early by the break of the day,
He called to her window and to her did say:
"Rise up, bonny Mary, and come you with me.
Such things they will happen; such things you will see."

He took her o'er mountain; he took her o'er dell.
She heard through the morning the sound of a bell.
All over the ocean, all over the sea,
Ye maidens of Dublin, take warning by me.

"O sailor, o sailor, come spare me my life!"
But out of his pocket, he took a penknife.
He stabbed her and ripped her and cut her in three,
Then he buried poor Mary beneath the green tree.

Now green grows the laurel, and red grows the rose,
And a black bird will follow wherever he goes,
Crying, "Sailor, O Sailor, wherever ye be,
The blood flows forever beneath the green tree."

This is close to the bloodiest bloody ballad I know. I like that in a ballad...