As I walked out over London bridge
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One misty morning early,
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I overheard a fair pretty maid
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Was lamenting for her Geordie.
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Ah, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain,
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'Tis not the chain of many
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He was born of king's royal breed
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And lost to a virtuous lady.
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Go bridle me my milk white steed,
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Go bridle me my pony,
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I will ride to London court
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To plead for the life of my Geordie.
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Ah, my Geordie never stole nor cow nor calf,
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He never hurted any,
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Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer,
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And he sold them in Bohenny.
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Two pretty babies have I born,
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The third lies in my body,
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I'd freely part with them every one
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If you'd spare the life of Geordie.
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The judge looked over his left shoulder,
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He said fair maid I'm sorry
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He said fair maid you must be gone
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For I cannot pardon Geordie.
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Ah, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain,
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'Tis not the chain of many,
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Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer
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And he sold them in Bohenny.
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Georgie
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| Joan Baez |
