Ah, thank you for that. Brian's singing is clear, so here it is. I suppose it's simpler to post the whole thing rather than just emendations. I'd recommend his recording (Sharper than the Thorn, Pugwash PUGCD002, 1996). Frankie has made some minor alterations, but nothing of great consequence.

KEMP OWYNE

(Text collated and modernised by Brian Peters, based upon the three traditional texts in Child)

Oh come list awhile my bonny child
Lay your head low on my knee
A dreadful tale I'll tell to you
Concerning of a fair lady

Her mother died when she was young
Causing her to weep and moan
Her father wed the worst woman
That's ever lived in Christendom

She servèd her with foot and hand
But oh, her stepmother loved not she
She has cursed that bonny maid
And thrown her in the salt, salt sea

Saying, Oh lie you there, dove Isabel
A dreadful beast condemned to be
Till Kemp Owyne, the king's son
Shall borrow you with kisses three

Her neck grew long, her teeth grew strong
On her four feet she did fall
Every breath brought smoke and fire
On Eastmuir crag condemned to crawl

Oh it's from this rock I'll never rise
No man on earth shall set me free
Till Kemp Owyne, the king's son
Shall climb the crag and thrice kiss me

Now word has gone to Kemp Owyne
The fiery beast was in his land
He has taken a bonny boat
And steered it with his own fair hand

A mile before he reached the shore
The sky glowed red, though the sun was dim
And as he set his foot on land
The fiery heat blistered his skin

Oh it's from this rock I'll never rise
No man on earth shall set me free
Till Kemp Owyne, the king's son
Shall climb the crag and thrice kiss me

So he's mounted up the Eastmuir crag
He has given her kisses one
Away she went and back she came
The foulest beast in Christendom

Oh it's from this rock I'll never rise
No man on earth shall set me free
Till Kemp Owyne, the king's son
Shall climb the crag and thrice kiss me

So he's mounted up the Eastmuir crag
He has given her kisses two
Away she went and back she came
But from her mouth the fire still flew

It's from this rock I'll never rise
No man on earth shall set me free
Till Kemp Owyne, the king's son
Shall climb the crag and thrice kiss me

So he's mounted up the Eastmuir craig
He has given her kisses three
Away she went and back she came
The fairest lady that e'er was seen

Oh was it wolf into the wood
Was it fish into the sea
Was it man or vile woman
My own dear love, that changèd thee?

Oh it was not wolf into the wood
It was not fish into the sea
But it was my cruel stepmother
Forever cursèd may she be

A heavier curse fall her upon
Than ever fell on vile woman
In Wormie's Wood she'll walk alone
None take pity her upon
And relieved shall she never be
Till all the saints sail o'er the sea