Renaissance Festival Podcast » Renaissance Festival Lyrics

Faire Lyrics

admin — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 15:10:00 +0000

A Fairy Story

admin — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 15:04:00 +0000

A Fairy Story
Music and Lyrics unkown
Performed by The Brobgingnagian Bards on A Faire to Remember

In days of old in a kingdom bold, there lived a fearsome dragon.
And the King he was in great distress and the countries spirits flagoned.
Until one day there came a knight, he was handsome, bold, and charming.
And he slew the dragon with his sword with a smile that was so disarming.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, a smile that was so disarming.

Said the King I wish to know your name, but the knight said do not bother.
For the name of a knight of the realm says he, is the same as any other.
Said the King tonight in my daughter’s bed you shall take your leisure.
And she’ll reward you for your deed, with a night of exhausting pleasure.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, anight of exhausting pleasure.

One daughter she had raven hair, a maiden young and chaste.
And she slept all night in the pale moonlight, naked to the waist.
The other daughter she was fair, the fairest in the town.
And she slept all night in the pale moonlight naked from her small waist down.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, naked from her small waist down.

Well the knight he spends many hour behind the castle wall.
But the ending to my story dear, isn’t what it seems at all.
For in neither bed of neither maid was he repaid for his glory.
But he slept all night with the King instead for this is a fairy story.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, for this is a Fairy story.

Background from Marc Gunn: Another song Andrew learned from his sister, a Celtic music-lover genius. This song is a classic parody of an all too cliché story.

Do Virgins Taste Better/Dragon's Retort

admin — Mon, 30 Apr 2007 05:32:00 +0000

Do Virgins Taste Better?
Lyrics by Randy Farran, music Traditional
Performed by Brobdingnagian Bards on A Faire To Remember

A dragon has come to our village today.
We’ve asked him to leave, but he won’t go away.
Now he’s talked with our king and they’ve worked out a deal.
No homes will he burn and no crops will he steal.

Now there is but one catch, we dislike it a bunch,
Twice a year he invites him a virgin to lunch.
Well, we’ve no other choice, so the deal we’ll respect,
But we can’t help but wonder and pause to reflect.

Do virgins taste better than those who’re not?
Are they salty or sweet or more juicy or what?
Do you savor them slowly? Gulp them down on the spot?
Do virgins taste better than those who’re not?

Now we’d like to be shed and many have tried,
But no one can get through your thick scaly hide.
We hope that someday, some brave knight will come by,
‘Cause we can’t wait around ’til you’re too fat to fly.

Now you have such good taste in your women for sure.
They always are pretty, they always are pure.
But your notion of dining, it makes us all flinch,
For your favorite entree is a barbecued wench.

Now we’ve found a solution, It works out so neat.
If you insist on nothing but virgins to eat,
No more will our numbers grow ever so small.
We’ll simply make sure there’s no virgins at all!

Background by Marc Gunn: Fantastic parody of the Irish Washerwoman. The song quickly became a hit among filkers and rennies alike. Now, we’ve taken it one step further, out into the world of mp3.com, where it has been in the Comedy top 20 since 2001. For the answer to the question, look below…

The Dragon’s Retort
Lyrics by Claire Stephens McMurray, music traditional, arranged by Gunn-McKee
Performed by The Brobdingnagian Bards on A Faire To Remember

Now, I am a dragon. Please listen to me.
For I’m misunderstood to a dreadful degree.
This ecology needs me, and I know me place,
But I’m fighting extinction with all of me race.

Well, I came to this village to better me health.
Which is ever so poor despite all me wealth.
But I get no assistance and no sympathy.
Just impertinent questioning shouted at me.

Yes, virgins taste better than those who’re not.
But my favorite snack mixed with peril is fraught
For my teeth will decay and my trim go to pot
Yes, virgins taste better than those who’re not.

You see I’m really quite kind almost all through the year.
Vegetarian ways are now mine out of fear.
But a birthday needs sweet so I’m sure you’ll agree.
And barbecued wench tastes like candy to me.

As it happens our interests are almost the same.
You see I’m really quite skillful at magic and game.
If I ate just your men, would your excess decline?
Of course not, the rest would just make better time.

Now, the number of babies a woman can bare,
Has limits, and that’s why my pruning’s done there.
And an orphan’s a sad sight, and so when I munch,
I’m careful to eat only virgins for lunch.

Johnny Jump Up

admin — Sat, 17 Mar 2007 15:36:00 +0000

Johnny Jump Up
Lyrics and Music Traditional
Performed by Queen’s Gambit on Pawn to King Four

I’ll tell you a story that happened to me
One day as I went down to Cork by the Lee.
The sun it was hot and the day it was warm,
Says I, “A quick pint wouldn’t do me no harm.”

I went in and asked for a bottle of stout
Says the barman, “I’m sorry, the beer’s all sold out.
Try whiskey, try Paddy, ten years in the wood.”
Says I, “I’ll try cider. I’ve heard that it’s good.”

Oh but never, no never, no never again
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten.
I fell to the ground and I could not get up
After drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up.

After downin’ the third I went out to the yard
Where I bumped into Brody, the big civic guard.
“Come here to me boy, don’t you know I’m the law?”
Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw.

He fell to the ground with his knees double up
But it wasn’t I that hit him, ’twas the Johnny Jump Up.
The next thing I remember down in Cork by the Lee
Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me,

I’m afraid of me life. I’ll be hit by a car!
Won’t you help across to the Celtic Knot Bar?
After downing a quart of that cider so sweet
He threw down his crutches and danced on his feet

Oh but never, no never, no never again
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten.
I fell to the ground and I could not get up
After drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up.

I went up the lee road, a friend for to see.
They call it the madhouse in Cork by the Lee
But when I got there, sure the truth I will tell,
They had this poor bugger locked up in a cell.

Said the guard, testing him, “Say these words if you can,
‘Around the rugged rock the ragged rascal ran’”
“Tell him I’m not crazy. Tell him I’m not mad.
It was only a sip of that cider I had.”

Oh but never, no never, no never again
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten.
I fell to the ground and I could not get up
After drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up.

A man died in the mines by the name of McNabb
They washed him and laid him outside on the slab
And after the coroner, his measurements did take,
His wife took him home for a bloody fine wake.

Twas about 12 o’clock and the beer was high
When the corpse he sits up and he says with a sigh,
“I can’t get to heaven, they won’t let me up,
‘Til I bring ‘em a quart of that Johnny Jump Up.”

Oh but never, no never, no never again
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten.
I fell to the ground and I could not get up
After drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up.

Additional Verse
So if ever you go down to Cork by the Lee
Stay out of the ale house and take it from me
If you want to stay sane don’t you dare take a sup
Of that devil drink cider they call Johnny Jump Up.

Background by Daniel Womack: Probably written in the 1920s or 30s. According to Jimmy Crowley, “‘Because of the general shortage of materials during the first World War cider was stored in casks which had been used for maturing whiskey. The cider drew the spirit from the wood and the result was ‘Johnny’, a cider so potent, as the song tells us, that it was a sure ticket to heaven. ‘Up the Lee Road’ implies much more than it says to Cork people, as the Mental Hospital is situated up there.” I’m in no position to doubt the words of Jimmy Crowley here.

Exclamations

admin — Tue, 06 Mar 2007 15:31:00 +0000

Exclamations
Lyrics by David Keefer, Music by Lynn Ahrens
Performed by The Brobdingnagian Bards on Brobdingnagian Fairy Tales

Although there was a truce in effect,
The enemy was not held in check.
So they launched an invasion
Without explanation,
And the guards started uttering exclamations:
HALT! Who goes there?
ALARM! We’re under attack!
AAAK! I am killed!

Exclamations! (HALT!)
With passion! (ALARM!)
And emotion! (AAAK!)
They’re generally used in front of a sentence
As a point of emphasis,
Or when you simply need to blow off steam.

The dragon was awakened from sleep
And so he took it out on our keep.
With one exhalation
Caused a burning sensation
And the dragon started using some exclamations:
HA! Take that you puny humans!
ODDS FISH! Where are the maidens?
SHITE! Point that ballista elsewhere!

Exclamations! (HA!)
With passion! (ODDS FISH!)
And emotion! (SHITE!)
They’re generally used in front of a sentence
As a point of emphasis,
Or when you simply need to blow off steam.

So if you’re English: Huzzah!
Or Scot: Hoot!
A pirate: Ahrrrr!
Or fop: Sink me!
Barbarian: Crom!
Or not: Merde!
An exclamation gets your point across!

We started the rebellion at two;
By four that afternoon we were through.
The monarch’s cessation
Gave a sense of elation
And the ex-king hollered some exclamations:
ODIN’S BEARD! You’ll pay for this!
FIE! I hope you all catch the plague!
PLEASE! Don’t kill me!

Exclamations! (ODIN’S BEARD!)
With passion! (FIE!)
And emotion! (PLEASE!)
They’re generally used in front of a sentence
As a point of emphasis,
Or when you simply need to blow off steam.

So if you’re English: Huzzah!
Or Scot: Hoot!
A pirate: Ahrrrr!
Or fop: Sink me!
Barbarian: Crom!
Or not: Merde!
An exclamation gets your point across!

Exclamations! (HALT!)
With passion! (FIE!)
And emotion! (PLEASE!)
They’re generally used in front of a sentence
As a point of emphasis,
Or when you simply need to blow off steam.

Exclamations! With passion! And emotion!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Yeah!
CRIKEY, that’s the end!

Background from The Brobdingnagian Bards: This hilarious parody of the Schoolhouse Rock song “Interjections” was written by David Keefer of Boogie Knights. Boogie Knights write some brilliant parodies with Medieval and Renaissance themes. Their songbooks are favorites at many of the filk circles we attend. Andrew changed up to the lyrics on a few of curse words using a few popular Sci Fi curses to give it our own unique spin and to clean it up for our French speaking audience.

John Riley

admin — Fri, 16 Feb 2007 06:31:00 +0000

John Riley
lyrics and music by Gibson/Neff
Performed by The Gutterpups on The Kings Nuts

Fair young maid all in her garden
Strange young man pass her by
Saying, “Fair maid, will you marry me?”
This then, “Sir,” was her reply:

“Oh no kind sir, I cannot marry thee,
For I’ve a love who sails all on the sea.
He’s been gone for seven years.
Still no man shall marry me.”

“What if he’s in some battle, slain
Or drowned in the deep salt sea?
What if he’s found another love
And he and his love both married be?”

“If he’s in some battle slain
I will die when the moon doth wain
And if he’s drowned in the deep salt sea
I’ll be true to his memory.

“And if he’s found another love
And he and his love both married be,
I wish them health and happiness
Where they dwell across the sea.”

He picked her up all in his arms
And kisses gave her one, two, three
Saying, “Weep no more, my own true love,
I am your long lost John Riley.”

Background by Daniel Womack: This song is attributed to a writing tandem of Gibson & Neff though I’m not sure who they are. The legend behind the song dates back possibly to the beginning of naval vessels or even travel itself where a man goes off then returns years later to test the devotion and loyalty of his love. This song was brought into the limelight by The Byrds and also Joan Baez but I personally love the Gutterpups version much more. If anyone has information on Gibson & Neff or futher history behind this tune, please email me at lyrics@renaissancefestivalmusic.com.

Tinkers' Rest

admin — Sat, 16 Dec 2006 06:30:00 +0000

Tinkers’ Rest
Lyrics and music by Brian Leo
Performed by Minstrosity on Why Am I Not Surprised?

Just down the road from Tomorrow,
‘Bout a mile beyond Some Day,
Skirting round a fen of sorrow,
There’s an open, smooth highway
Where it’s never night, your load is light
And by warm winds you’re caressed.
To a trav’lin’ man, it’s known as Tinker’s Rest.

Don’t be distressed. Count me blest.
Raise a bottle of your best.
To the times we’ve shared together
And the mem’ries we possess.
Don’t be distressed. Count me blest.
We’re only in this world as guests.
When my time comes ’round I’m bound for Tinkers’ Rest.

I’ve known sweet love’s intoxication,
Dropped some tears on early graves,
Pressed a stone from holy Erin
In the hands of my newborn babes,
Seen God’s handprint ‘cross the sky and chased
A glorious, foolish quest.
Soon I’ll share ceol agus craic at Tinkers’ Rest.

And if I never see my little children
Dance their wedding dance,
If my sweetest dreams die with me
Still I’m glad that I had the chance.
For my God throws quite a party,
and I must say I’m impressed.
Makes me wonder what He’s saved for Tinkers’ Rest.

Background by Daniel Womack: Written and copyrighted by Brian Leo in 1997, Tinkers Rest has quickly become one of my favorite tunes as well as others, including Minstrosity who covers the tune here. The Gaelic in the second verse is pronounced “Kyole og-us crack”. Ceol means “music”, agus is “and”, and roughly translated craic basically means “fellowship” or “Camaraderie”.

Seven Drunken Nights

admin — Thu, 09 Nov 2006 04:52:00 +0000

Seven Drunken Nights
Lyrics and music traditional
Performed by The Brobdingnagian Bards on The Holy Grail of Irish Drinking Songs

As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my horse ought to be
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my horse ought to be?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
That’s a lovely sow that me mother sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my coat ought to be
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my coat ought to be?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
That’s a wool blanket that me mother sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But buttons on a blanket sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe upon the chair where mypipe ought to be
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe upon the chair where my pipe ought to be?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
That’s a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed where my boots ought to be
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my boots ought to be?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
They’re two lovely geranium pots [or chamber pots] me mother sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But laces in geranium pots [or chamber pots] I never saw before

And as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my head ought to be
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my head ought to be?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
That’s a baby boy that my mother sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Saturday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two hands upon her breasts where my hands ought to be
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them hands upon your breasts where my hands ought to be?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
That’s a lovely nightgown that me mother sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a lad sneaking out the back, a quarter after three (I think it may have been closer to 2:45)
Well, I called me wife (HEY WIFE!) and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who was that lad sneaking out the back a quarter after three?

Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool,
So drunk you cannot see
That was just the tax man that the Queen she sent to me
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled and a hundred miles or more
But an Englishman who can last till three I’ve never seen before

Background by Daniel Womack: Marc claims their performing the song was Andrew’s ideas. I doubt not Marc’s word nor Andrew’s penchant for clever ideas. Just so I don’t get left out, here’s a clever idea of my own…adding some of the lyrics here in french thanks to Joe Offer from Mudcat.org:

ÇA JE N’AI JAMAIS VU!

L’autre soir en rentrant chez moi, j’avais bu un peu de vin
J’ai vu un cheval dans l’écurie, là où je met le mien
Alors j’ai dit à ma p’tite femme veux-tu bien m’expliquer
Que fait ce cheval là à la place de mon bidet?

Mon pauvre ami, tu ne vois pas clair, le vin t’as trop soûlé
Ce n’est rien qu’une vache à lait que grand-mère m’a donné
Dans ma vie j’ai vu pas mal de choses bizarres et saugrenues
Mais une selle sur une vache à lait, ça je n’ai jamais vu!

L’autre soir en rentrant chez moi, j’avais bu un peu de vin
J’ai vu un chapeau, là où j’accroche le mien
Alors j’ai dit à ma p’tite femme veux-tu bien m’expliquer
Que fait ce chapeau là à la place de mon béret?

Mon pauvre ami, tu ne vois pas clair, le vin t’as trop soûlé
Ce n’est rien qu’une vielle casserole que grand-mère m’a donné
Dans ma vie j’ai vu pas mal de choses bizarres et saugrenues
Mais une vielle casserole en feutre, ça je n’ai jamais vu!

L’autre soir en rentrant chez moi, j’avais bu un peu de vin
J’ai vu un pantalon, là où je pose le mien
Alors j’ai dit à ma p’tite femme veux-tu bien m’expliquer ça
Pourquoi ce pantalon lá est gris, le mien est toujours noir?

Mon pauvre ami, tu ne vois pas clair, le vin t’as trop soûlé
Ce n’est rien qu’un vieux torchon que maman m’a donné
Dans ma vie j’ai vu pas mal de choses mais ça reste un mystère
Un vieux torchon avec deux tuyaux et une fermeture éclair!

L’autre soir en rentrant chez moi, j’avais bu un peu de vin
J’ai vu une tête sur l’oreiller qui ne me ressemblait pas
Alors j’ai dit à ma p’tite femme veux-tu bien m’expliquer ça
Que fait cette tête sur l’oreiller, je n’crois pas que c’est moi?

Mon pauvre ami, tu ne vois pas clair, le vin t’as trop soûlé
Ce n’est rien qu’un gros melon que grand-mère m’a donné
Des prix au concours agricole, on peut dire que j’en ai eu
Mais une moustache sur un melon, ça je n’ai jamais vu!

See! Look at me get all fancy-like! If there is anything I’ve missed, any information that you know to be incorrect, or if there is a song you’ve heard on the podcast that you would like to see included, please do not hesitate to contact me at lyrics@renaissancefestivalmusic.com.

Isn't It Grand?

admin — Fri, 03 Nov 2006 04:24:00 +0000

Isn’t It Grand?
Lyrics and music traditional
Performed by 3 Pints Gone on One More Round
Also Performed by The Poxy Boggards on Lager Than Life

Look at the coffin. Shiny gold handles
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Look at the parson. Bloody sanctimonious.
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Look at the widow. Bloody great female.
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Look at the mourners. Bloody great hypocrites.
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Look at the flowers all bloody wilted.
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Look at the tombstone. Bloody great boulder.
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Look at the whiskey. Kegs, buckets and bottles.
Isn’t it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead
Let’s not have a sniffle. Hell, let’s have a bloody good cry
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you’ll bloody well die.

Background by Daniel Womack: This seems to be a modern take on a song that was sung by Leslie Sarony in the late 19th century. Here is the song as she once sang it:

Lately there’s nothing but trouble, grief and strife
There’s not much attraction about this bloomin’ life
Last night I dreamt I was bloomin’ well dead
As I went to the funeral, I bloomin’ well said,

Look at the flowers, bloomin’ great orchids
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
Look at the corfin, bloomin’ great ‘andles
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead
I felt so ‘appy to think that I’d popped off
I said to a bloke with a nasty, ‘acking cough
Look at the black ‘earse, bloomin’ great ‘orses
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!

Look at the bearers, all in their frock coats
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
Look at their top ‘ats, polished with Guiness
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
Some people there were praying for me soul
I said, ‘It’s the first time I’ve been off the dole’
Look at the mourners, bloomin’ well sozzled
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!

Look at the children, bloomin’ excited
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
Look at the neighbours, bloomin’ delighted
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
Spend the insurance on merriment, for alack
‘You know I shan’t be with you going back.
Look at the Missus, bloomin’ well laughing
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!

Look at me Sister, bloomin new ‘at on
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
Look at me Brother, bloomin’ cigar on
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!
We come from clay and we all go back they say
Don’t ‘eave a brick it may be your Aunty May
Look at me Grandma, bloomin’ great haybag
Ain’t it grand, to be bloomin’ well dead!

If there is anything I’ve missed, any information that you know to be incorrect, or if there is a song you’ve heard on the podcast that you would like to see included, please do not hesitate to contact me at lyrics@renaissancefestivalmusic.com. I’ve been working on a way to organize how I do things so that I can get these posts out more frequently. As time passes though, I feel there will again be a natural progression towards one or two songs a week and times of one song in two weeks but that’s natural. If you guys have a preference as to how often you’d like to see this updated, again feel free to contact me at the email above and I’ll see what I can do. Thanks!

The Trees They Grow High

admin — Sat, 21 Oct 2006 23:36:00 +0000

The Trees They Grow High
Lyrics and music traditional
Performed by Bedlam on Sleep Is a River

Oh the trees they grow high and the leaves they do grow green
Many is the time my true love I’ve seen
Many is the hour I have watched him all alone
He’s young but he’s daily growing.

Father, dear father, you’ve done me great wrong
You’ve married me to a boy who’s much too young
I’m twice twelve and he is but fourteen
He’s young but he’s daily growing.

Daughter, dear daughter, I’ve done you no wrong
I’ve married you to a great lord’s son
He’ll be a man to you when I am dead and gone
He’s young but he’s daily growing.

Oh father, dear father, if you’ll see fit
To send my love to college for one year yet
I’ll tie blue ribbons all around his head
To let the ladies know that he’s married.

One day while I was lookin’ o’er my father’s castle wall
I saw the young boys a-playin’ at the ball
My one true love was the flower of them all
For he’s young but he’s daily growing.

And so they awoke at the dawning of the day
To head up to the hayfield to have a sporting play
And what they did there she never would declare
But she ne’er more complained of his growing.

At the age of fourteen he was a married man
Age of fiteen the father of a son
Age of sixteen o’er his grave the grass was green
Cool death has put an end to his growing.

I’ll weave my love a shroud of the Hollister vine
With every stitch I put in it, o’er my true love I’ll pine
Every stitch I put in it, the tears they will flow down
Cool death has put an end to his growing.