Down by yon green bushes near Calder's clear stream Where me and my Annie so often have been When the hours that flew past us, right happy were we It was little she thought that a soldier I'd be
But it's farewell to Annie and I must away For the King he needs soldiers and I must obey. But if providence proves kind, love, until I return I will wed with my Annie near Calder's clear burn
On the fourteenth of August our regiment was lost And a ball from the enemy our lines came across O it struck me in the temple and the blood trickled down I reeled and I staggered and I fell to the ground.
“Come here,” says our captain, “come here with good speed For I fear by this bullet young Dinsmore lies dead.” Two men with a stretcher did quickly prepare, And they carried me away to a hospital there.
Cold water and brandy they poured out so free, They turned me all over my wounds for to see. But if I had my Annie to bind up my wounds One kiss from her sweet lips would soon deaden the stoun.
And it's when I am weary and think of lang syne, When I was a miner and wrought in the mine O the tears they do trickle and down they do fall like the roses that bloom around bonny WoodhallTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
