My old mate, Kenny with the Union Folk in Altrincham used to sing this:
Oh aye the prickle-eye bush,
It pricks my heart full sore
And if ever I get out of the prickle-eye bush
I'll never get in it anymore.
Also Jimmy Driftwood:
Slack your rope, hangman
Loose it for a while,
Thought I saw my Father coming riding many a mile.
I particularly like Mothers reasons for coming to watch the hanging in this version:
You wouldn't make my feather bed
Nor brew me a spot of tea
So I have come to see you hang upon the gallows tree!
They were tough in the old west!