These are the words I can get, and the ones I can't. If someone can help me to correct and complete the lyrics, many thanks. I'm aware it looks like the transcription of a Sumerian text, but English is not my mother language, nor it is Scottish. So, forgive me and help. Thank you. Roberto Lord Thomas he was a very fine man ... Fair Annie she was the fairest woman That ever the sun shone on Lord Thomas he spoke a word in jest And Annie took it ill He said, "I'll marry ... no ... maidens Without my parents' will." Then Thomas he has hame to his mither And bowed low doon to his knee "Oh will I wed the nut-brown maid Or shall I wed Fair Annie?" "The nut-brown maid has cows and yowes Fair Annie she has nane And for my blessings, my son Thomas I pray you let her alane." Then oot it spak his little sister Stood by her nurse's knee "O marry ye your Fair Annie And let the other ane be." "Her cow(?) may die in her covin(?) And her oxen(?) may droon in the myre But marry ye your Fair Annie You'll get your heart's desire." "Her cow(?) may die in her covin(?) And her oxen(?)may hang in the pleugh But marry ye your Fair Annie And you'll get gear anew(?)." Lord Thomas he's gane to Annie's bow'r-door And tirled low(?) at the pin Ne'er ready e'er was than Fair Annie To let Lord Thomas in "It's will ye come to my wedding, Annie The morn's to be the day." "It's never I fit", said Fair Annie "Unless the bride I be." Lord Thomas he gaed up the high highway And Annie she gaed doon the glen And Annie shone as fair her lane As Thomas and a' his men "O where got ye the water, Annie That washed you so clean?" "I got it by my mither's bow'r-door Beneath a marble stane." "Oh ye maun ... my ... , Annie And you maun ... my love Until my wife hae born a son And that will endure love." "I will na ... your ... , Lord Thomas I will na ... your love But ye maun gae to your nut-brown bride ... constant(?) prove." Then he ... hame ... Fair Annie His heart ... bleed But ere the hour o' twal o'clock Fair Annie she was deid Then Thomas he's gane to Annie's bow'r-door And tirled low(?) at the pin Ne'er ready e'er was than Annie's mither To let Lord Thomas in "Oh deal ye weel at my love's lyke The white breid and the wine And ere the morn at this time You'll deal as weel at mine." The ane was laid in Mary's kirk The other in Mary's choir And fae the ane there sprang a birk Fae the other there sprang a briar And now brave Mudcatters a', do your best!
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