It being the springtime of the year
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The flowers were freshly blooming
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A young man from my home country
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Fell in love with Barbara Allen
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This young man took sick and went to bed
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And he called out for Barbara Allen
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She came to him and softly said:
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Young man I think you are dying
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I am not dying! the young man said
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One kiss from you would cure me
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One kiss from me you'll never see
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Though I thought that you're heart was breaking
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Or do you not remember last Sunday night
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Out in the ballroom dancing
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You danced all night with the village whore
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And you slighted Barbara Allen
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So she went back to her father's house
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And she heard the church bell tolling
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And each toll that the bell did ring
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Called out for Barbara Allen
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Now she'd not gone back so very far
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When she saw the funeral coming
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Lay down, lay down the corpse she cried
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So that I may gaze upon him
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Oh father, father, dig my grave
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And dig it deep and narrow
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A young man died for me today
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I shall die for him tomorrow
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So they both were buried in the old churchyard
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But she was buried higher
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And from her grave a red rose grew
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And from his grave a brier
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-----------------
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Barbara Allen
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| Frank Turner |
