Sorry for how short it is. My sister has a mental disability and loves to sing this song whenever we walk through the town square, “the children swing so very high, but I dont know why my mama always cries. Up underneath the old dead tree, I saw them hanging three by three”. I looked up the town history today and found that nine children were hung under the dead tree in the middle of town for brutally tearing apart the town drunk. Their last words made my blood freeze in my veins: “we’re not done yet.” I’ve locked my room and barricaded myself in. How did my little sister know what happened 80 years ago?