Town where i was born
There was a fair maid dwellin'
Made all the lads cry well-a-day,
And her name was Barbara Allen
'Twas in the merry month of May
When spring buds they were swellin'
Sweet Willian came from West Country
And he courted Barbara Allen
He sent his servant unto her
To the place where she was dwelling
Said, my master's sick, bids me call for you
If your name be Barbara Allen
Well slowly, slowly got she up
And slowly came she nigh him
And all she said as she passed his bed
Was, Young man, i fear you're dying.
Oh yes, I'm sick, and very sick
And death is in me dwellin'
Unless I have the love of you -
The love of Barabara Allen
O don't you remember in yonder town
When we were at the tavern?
You gave a health to the ladies round
But you slighted Barbara Allen!
O yes, i remember in yonder town
When we were at the tavern
I gave a health to the ladies round
But gave my heart to Barbara Allen.
Then lightly tripped she down the stairs
She heard those church bells tolling
Each bell seemed to say as it tolled away
Hard-hearted Barbara Allen
Oh mother, mother, make my bed
Make it long and narrow
Sweet William died for the love of me
And I will die tomorrow.
They buried her in the old churchyard
They buried Sweet William beside her
And from his breast grew a red, red rose
And from hers grew a brier
They grew and grew by the old church wall
Till they could grow no higher
And at the top twined a lovers' knot
And the rose grew round the brier.
Traditional tunes belong to everyone. Even CST says it's so.