| There is a tavern in the town and there my true love sits him down and drinks his wine 'mid laughter free and never, never thinks of me Far thee well for I must leave thee, do not let the parting grieve thee and re- member that the best of friends must part, must part Adieu, kind friends, adieu, adieu I can no longer stay with you si'll hang my harp on a weeping willow tree and may the world go well with thee. He left me for a damsel dark each Friday night they used to spark and now my love, once true to me takes that dark damsel on his knee Oh! Dig my grave both wide and deep put tombstones at my head and feet and on my breast carve a turtle-dove to signify I died of love |
