The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #154595   Message #3628138
Posted By: GUEST
25-May-14 - 07:02 AM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Land of green ginger
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Land of green ginger
Here you go;

The Land of Green Ginger

Oh pity me, pray and hear what I've to say
For my bosom has been set on fire
By one I considered as true as the day
But now she's a faithless Maria
And when I recount all my troubles and woes
And miseries which to you I'll now disclose
You'd say in this world you would hardly suppose
There was such a false maid as Maria
        
I may be to blame but I love her the same
Though my feelings she's tried hard to injure
She's as false as she's fair and she's twelve pounds a year
And she lives in the Land of Green Ginger

I'm a journeyman baker and first went to Hull
On a Saturday night in September
And Maria, a cook and her elegant look
I shall ever have cause to remember
Each day on my round I would go with my bread
Contented till love nearly turned my poor head
You see how I blush and my face will go red
When I mention the name of Maria

I called every morning and how she would run
When I knocked and shouted out, 'Baker!'
And smiled too beside when I said, 'For my bride
I would take her and never forsake her'.
But a policeman came on the Green Ginger beat
And as they're always looking for something to eat
No matter if pudding that's stale, or cold meat
And of course he made love to Maria

At last, when I asked her to settle the day
She said, with a smile of derision,
She would rather marry her officer bold
Who belonged to the borough division
What, deceive your poor baker, who loves you so true?
She only said, 'Rubbish', and answered 'Pooh, pooh'
My heart it went down like a lump of stale dough
As I took a last look at Maria

I could weep I could cry, I shall pine, I shall die
Each day I get thinner and thinner
I grieve at my meals whether supper or tea
And I fast at my breakfast and dinner
You see at a glance how I'm wasting away
Like butter exposed on a hot summer's day
I nearly drop down when I hear the folks say
'There's the baker who once loved Maria'

Broadside ballad – pub. Firth