Well, that's enough versions of Lord Randal to feed an army (and poison 'em all). The version I always sing is Maddy Prior's, which is short and bitter but lovely.

Oh, what had you for your supper, my own darling boy?
Oh, what had you for supper, my comfort and my joy?
I had fish all from the Irish Sea, mother. Make my bed soon.
I have a faining in my heart and wouldn't I long to lie down.

Oh, what will you leave your son, my own darling boy?
Oh, what will you leave your son, now, my comfort and my joy?
I will leave him my job at Sellafield, so he won't need to sign on.
I have a faining in my heart and wouldn't I long to lie down.

Oh, what will you leave your wife, my own darling boy?
Oh, what will you leave your wife, now, my comfort and my joy?
I will leave her with compensation. She can fight for it when I'm gone.
I have a faining in my heart and wouldn't I long to lie down.

I used to know an Appalachian version in which the mother asks her son what he had for supper and he replies "a cup of cold poison." And later, when asked what he'll leave his sweetheart, he says "a cup of cold poison." Concise and to the point, eh?

Cheers,
Anais