|Lidové písně - Anglické||[-] Transpozice [+] Tisk textu  |
The Irish Girl
Lidové písně - Anglické
As I walked out one morning, down by a river's side, And gazing all around me, an Irish girl I spied. The tears ran down her rosy cheeks, and she began to cry, My love's gone to America, and quite forsaken me. I went to church last Sunday, my love he passed me by. I knew his mind was changing by the roving of his eye. I knew his mind was altered to a girl of high degree, Saying, Willy, lovely Willy, your love has wounded me. Last night as I lay on my bed, so sick and bad was I, I called for a knapkin, around my head to tie. Was he as bad in love as me, perhaps I'd mend again, O love, it is a killing thing, did you ever feel the pain ? I wish I was a butterfly, I'd fly to my love's breast, I wish I was a linnet, I would sing my love to rest, I wish I was a nightingale, I'd sit and sing so clear, I'd sing a song for you, false love, for once I loved you dear.