The Young Tradition — The Bitter Withy

Текст песни с аккордами

    	    	Вступление

[Intro]
D
C G
D
G D G

D
C G
D
G D G

[Verse 1]
D
As it fell out upon a bright holiday
      C                     G
Small hail from the sky did fall;
                      D
Our Saviour asked his mother dear
   G        D       G
If he might play at ball.

[Verse 2]
D
“At ball? At ball? My own dear son?
     C                 G
It's time that you was gone,
                         D
But don't let me hear of any doings
  G          D     G
Tonight when you return.”

[Verse 3]
D
So it's up the hill, and down the hill
    C                   G
Our sweet young Saviour ran,
                   D
Until he met three rich young lords
    G       D      G
All playing in the sun.

[Verse 4]
D
“Good morn, good morn, good morn”, cried they,
      C                 G
“Good morning,” oh says he,
                            D
“And which one of you three rich young lords
     G       D         G
Will play at ball with me?”

[Verse 5]
D
“Well, we're all lords' and ladies' sons,
    C                   G
All born in a bower and hall,
                          D
And you are nothing but a Jewish child
G          D    G
Born in an oxen stall”

[Instrumental 1]
D
C G
D
G D G

[Verse 6]
D
“Well, though you're lords' and ladies' sons
    C                      G
All born in your bower and hall
                          D
I'll prove to you at your latter end
       G     D         G
I'm an angel above you all”

[Verse 7]
D
So he built him a bridge from the beams of the sun
    C                     G
And over the river danced he;
                               D
Them rich young lords followed after him
    G            D       G
And drowned they was all three.

[Verse 8]
D
So it's up the hill and down the hill
      C                  G
Three rich young mothers run
                             D
Crying “Mary mild, fetch you home your child
    G         D            G
For ours he's drowned each one.”

[Verse 9]
D
So Mary mild fetched home her child,
    C                   G
She laid him across her knee
                     D
And with a bundle of withy twigs
    G        D        G
She gave him thrashes three.

[Verse 10]
D
“Oh bitter withy. oh bitter withy
     C            G
That causes me to smart.
                      D
Oh the withy shall be very first tree
   G      D      G
To perish at the heart.”

[Instrumental 2]
D
C G
D
G D G
		
    

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