And many many more! Lyr. Add: WHO IS THAT AT MY FALSE WINDOW? O, who is that at my fale window A making of such pitiful moan O, who can it be but lovely Willie Jest escaping from a storm. O, Mary dear, go ask your mother If my wedding bride that you shall be If she says no, return and tell me And I no more, will trouble thee. O, Willie dear, go court some other And whisper love all in her ear My mother says, she cain't do without me My mother says, she needs me here. O, Mary dear, go ask your father If my wedding bride that you shall be If he says no, return an' tell me An' I no more will trouble thee. O, Willie dear, I dare not ask him He sleeps, he sleeps and takes his rest In his right hand he holds a weepon For t' kill the man that I love best. Then Willie picked up the silver dagger An' he pierced it through his own white breast A-dieu, a-dieu, a-dieu kind Mary Your love Willie, has gone to rest. Then, Mary picked up the silver dagger An' she pierced it through her own white breast A-dieu, a-dieu, a-dieu kind parents My love Willie and I, have gone to rest. When their parents came to know this They strifed both night and day Says, see what a cruel deed we've done We've robbed the life of two precious jewels Whose body now lies mouldering in their tomb. Max Hunter Coll., Fred High of High, Arkansas, 1953. False Window With Real Audio. Similar to the Canadian Who Is At My Window Weeping (in Contemplator).
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