Thank you, Malcolm. So, with possibly some minor impefections, the the text sung by Frankie Armstrong should be the following:

Kemp Owen
Frankie Armstrong, The Garden of Love, Fellside FECD144, 1999

Come list a while 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 mourn
Her father wed the worst woman
That ever lived in Christendom

She servèd her well, both hand and foot
But O, her stepmother loved not she
She has cursed this bonnie maid
And cast her in the salt, salt sea

O I lie you there, dove Isabel
A dreadful beast condemned to be
Till Kemp Owen, the king's own son
Shall climb the crag and borrow thee

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

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

Now word has come to Kemp Owen
The fiery beast was in his land
He has got on a bonny boat
And steered it with his own fair hand

A mile before he's reached the shore
The sky glowed red 'though the sun grew dim
As he put his foot on shore
The fiery heat blisterd his skin

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

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

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

He's mounted o'er 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 Owen, the king's own son
Shall climb the crag and thrice kiss me

He's mounted o'er the Eastmuir crag
He has given her kisses three
Away she went and back she came
The fairest woman your eyes did see

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

It was not wolf into the wood
It was not fish into the sea
It was my own cruel stepmother
Forever cursed may she be

A heavier curse light 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