On Springfield Mountain
there did dwell
A comely youth who I
knew full well.
On Monday morning he
did go
Down to the meadow for
to mow.
He had not mowed but
half a field
When a wicked serpent
bit his heel.
He took his scythe and
with a blow
He laid that wicked
serpent low,
He laid the wicked
serpent low.
He took the serpent all
in his hand
And went straight down
to Molly Bland.
“Oh, Molly, Molly,
don't you see,
This wicked serpent
what bit me.”
Now Molly had a ruby
lip
With which the poison she
did sip.
But Molly had a rotting
tooth,
And the poison struck
and it killed them both,
The poison struck and
killed them both.
And when the neighbours
found them dead,
They gently laid them
all in one bed.
And all their friends
both far and near
Did grieve and moan for
they were so dear.
So all you maidens a
warning take
From Molly Bland and
Tommy Blake.
And mind, when you're
in love, don't you pass
Too close to patches of
high grass,
Too close to patches of
high grass.
Love is no sin. Fay Hield is a traditional English folk singer and a senior lecturer in
Ethnomusicology at the University of Sheffield.
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário