Are you going to scarborough fair:
parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
remember me to one who lives there.
she once was a true love of mine.
On the side of a hill in the deep forest green.
tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown.
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain
sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt:
parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
without no seams nor needle work,
then she'll be a true love of mine.
On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves.
washes the grave with silvery tears.
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
Tell her to find me an acre of land:
parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
between the salt water and the sea strand,
then she'll be a true love of mine.
War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions.
general order their soldiers to kill.
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather:
parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
and gather it all in a bunch of heather,
then she'll be a true love of mine.