If you go out tonight in Waverley Park
Don’t hail the carriage you’ll meet in the dark
Ain’t no call for laughter, my words you must mark
Or you’ll be on the Waverley Stagecoach
Some twenty years since or a similar while
The Mayor of the City, his wife and his child
They boarded the carriage but inside a mile
Were flung dead from the Waverley Stagecoach
They say that the wheels on the coach are bright red