Cold blows the wind to thy, my love And gently drops the rain I only had but one true love And in cold grave she was laid
I'll do as much for my true love As any young man may I'll sit and mourn along her grave For a twelve-month and a day
When the twelve months and one day was past The ghost began to speak: "Why sit thou'st here along my grave And will not let me sleep?"
"There is one thing that I want, sweetheart, There is one thing that I pray And that is a kiss from your lil-white lips Then I'll go from your grave"
"My lips they are as cold as clay My breath smells earthy strong And if you kiss my cold clay lips Your time will not be long
Go fetch me water from the desert And blood from out of stone Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast That a young man never had known"
(INSTRUMENTAL)
'Twas down in yard of Gretna Green There where we used to walk The finest flower that ever I saw Is withered to a stalk”
The stalk is withered and dry sweetheart the flower will ne'er return And since I lost my one true love What can I do but mourn?
"When shall we meet again sweetheart? When shall we meet again?" "Ere the oaken leaves that fall from the trees Are green and spring up again" “The stalk is withered dry, my love, So will our hearts decay. So make yourself content, my love 'Til God calls you away”Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
