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%% Three Crows
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X:37
T:Three Crows
R:Folk Song
M:4/4
O:England
A:Lancashire
L:1/8
B:Folk Songs Of Lancashire
N:Mike Harding
K:G
B2|B4 G2 A2|B4 B4|c4 B4|HA6 D2|
G2 BG G2 F2|E2 E2 E2 E2|A2 cB A2 G2|F2 A2 Hd2 d2|
B4 G2 F2|E4 c2 A2|d4 d4|G8|


Three Crows

There were three crows sat on a tree
And they were black as black could be.
And they were black as black could be.
And they were black as black could be.

One old crow said to his mate
"What have we this 'ere day to eat?"

They flew across the burning plain
To where an owd 'orse 'ad been slain.

"Thee sit on his big breast bone
And I'll pike out his bonny blue 'een."

One old crow said to the other
"By gum this is a tough old bugger!"

Up come the farmer with his gun
And shot these crows exceptin' one.

Last owd crow flew to a tree
Said "Yer a silly owd bugger, you can't shoot me!"

Farmer raised up his big gun
And shot that crow right up the bum.

That's the end of me terrible tale
If tha wants any more, buy us some ale!