As I walked out over London town One misty morning early I overheard a fair pretty maid Was lamenting for her Geordie
Oh, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain ‘Tis not the chain of many He was born of king’s royal breed And lost to a virtuous lady
Go bridle me my milk white steed Go bridle me my pony I will ride to London’s court To plead for the life of Geordie
Two pretty babies have I born The third lies in my body I’d freely part with them every one If you’d spare the life of Geordie
The judge looked over his left shoulder He said fair maid I’m sorry He said fair maid you must be gone For I cannot pardon Geordie
Oh, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain ‘Tis not the chain of many He was born of king’s royal breed And lost to a virtuous lady
Oh, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain ‘Tis not the chain of many Stole sixteen of the king’s royal deer And he sold themTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
