In Moore Street where I did dwell,
A butcher boy I loved right well.
He courted me my life away,
And now with me he will not stay.I wish my baby he were born
And smilin' on his daddy's knee,
And my puir body to be dead and gone
And the long green grass growin' over me.I wish, I wish, I wish in vain.
I wish I was a maid again,
But a maid again I ne'er can be
Till apples grow on an orange tree.
(Till cherries grow on an ivy tree) <-- alternateHe went upstairs and the door he broke.
He found her hanging on a rope.
He took a knife and he cut her down,
And in her pocket these words he found:"O Dig my grave large wide and deep.
Put a marble stone at my head and feet,
And in the middle put a turtle dove,
That the world may know I died for love."HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 3-Jul-02.