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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.
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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