Oh Polly, love, oh Polly, the rout has now begun And we must go a-marching at the beating of the drum Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me I'll take you to the war, me love, in high Germany
Oh Willy, love, oh Willy, come list what I do say My feet they are so tender, I cannot march away And besides, my dearest Willy, I am with child by thee Not fitted for the war, me love, in high Germany
I'll buy for you a horse, me love, and on it you shall ride And all my delight shall be it, riding by your side We'll stop at every alehouse and drink when we are dry We'll be true to one another, get married bye and bye
Oh, cursed be them cruel wars that ever they should rise And out of merry England press many a man likewise They pressed my true love from me, likewise my brothers three And sent them to the wars, me love, in high Germany
My friends I do not value nor my foes I do not fear Now my love has left me I wander far and near And when my baby it is born and smiling on my knee I'll think of lovely Willy in High Germany
Oh Polly, love, oh Polly, the rout has now begun And we must go a-marching at the beating of the drum Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me I'll take you to the war, me love, in high GermanyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
