27 avril 2009 1 27 /04 /avril /2009 11:44

Late last night when the squire came home

Enquiring for his lady

Some denied and some replied

She's gone with the Black Jack Davy

Go saddle to me the bonny brown steed

For the grey was never so speedy

I'll ride all day and I'll ride all night

Till I catch that  Black Jack Davy


He rode up hills and he rode down dales

Over many a wild high mountain

And they did say that saw him go

Black Jack Davy he is hunting

He rode east and he rode west

All in the morning early

Until he spied his lady fair

Cold and wet and weary

Why did you leave your house and land

Why did you leave your baby

Why did you leave your own wedded lord

To go with the Black Jack Davy


What care I for your goose feather bed

With the sheets turned down so bravely

Well I may sleep on the cold hard ground

Along with the Black Jack Davy

Then I'll kick off my high healed shoes

Made of the Spanish leather

And I'll put on my lowland brogues

And skip it o'er the heather


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