Barbara Allen

Oh, in the merry month of May
When green buds they were swellin'
Young Tommy Jones on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen

He sent his men unto her then
To the place where she was dwellin'
"You must come to my master, dear
If your name be Barbara Allen"

So slowly, slowly she came up
And slowly she came at him
But all she said when she came there
"Young man, I think you're dyin[""If on your death bed you do lieWhat needs a tale you're tellin'I cannot keep you from yourselfFarewell", said Barbara AllenHe turned his face unto the wallAs deadly pangs he fell inFarewell, farewell, farewell to allFarewell to Barbara Allen]



Credits
Writer(s): Arthur Garfunkle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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