ASH
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The Ash Grove

My lips smile no more, my heart loses its lightness,
No dream of the future my spirit can cheer;
I only can brood on the past and its brightness,
The dead I have mourned are again living here.
From ev'ry dark nook they press forward to meet me;
I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome,
And others are there, looking downward to greet me;
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.

Click to hear "Ash Grove Lament" MIDI file


Isn't it Grand, Boys

Look at the coffin,
with golden handles
Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody-well dead?

Let's not have a sniffle,
let's have a bloody-good cry
And always remember: The longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody-well die!

Look at the flowers,
all bloody withered
Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody-well dead?

Let's not have a sniffle,
let's have a bloody-good cry
And always remember: The longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody-well die!

Look at the mourners,
bloody-great hypocrites
Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody-well dead?

Let's not have a sniffle,
let's have a bloody-good cry
And always remember: The longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody-well die!

Look at the preacher,
bloody sanctimonious
Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody-well dead?

Let's not have a sniffle,
let's have a bloody-good cry
And always remember: The longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody-well die!

Look at the widow,
bloody-great female
Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody-well dead?

Let's not have a sniffle,
let's have a bloody-good cry
And always remember: The longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody-well die!

And always remember: The longer you live...
The sooner you'll bloody-well die!


Scarborough Fair

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
For once she was a true love of mine.

Have her make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without a seam or fine needle work,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Where ne'er a drop of water e'er fell,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the sea and over the sand,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

If she tells me she can't, I'll reply
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Let me know that at least she will try
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Though not more than any heart asks
And I must know she's a true love of mine.

Dear, when thou has finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For thou then art a true love of mine.



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