| Lyrics: | Are you going to Scarborough Fair
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Remember me to one
that lives there
For once she once was a true lover of mine.
Tell her to make me a
cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
One with no seams, of fine
needlework
And then she'll be a true lover of mine.
Tell her to dry it 'pon yonder
thorn
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
That never bore fruit since Adam was born
And
then she'll be a true lover of mine.
Ah, can you find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage,
rosemary, and thyme.
Between the salt sea and the sea sand
Or never be a true lover of
mine.
And can you plough it with a sheep's horn
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and
thyme.
And sow it all over with one peppercorn
Or never be a true lover of
mine.
And when you have done and finished your work
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and
thyme.
Then come to me for your cambric shirt
And then you'll be a true lover of mine. |
