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• Artiste: Frank Turner
• Titre: Barbara Allen
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It being the springtime of the year The flowers were freshly blooming A young man from my home country Fell in love with Barbara Allen This young man took sick and went to bed And he called out for Barbara Allen She came to him and softly said: Young man I think you are dying I am not dying! the young man said One kiss from you would cure me One kiss from me you'll never see Though I thought that you're heart was breaking Or do you not remember last Sunday night Out in the ballroom dancing You danced all night with the village whore And you slighted Barbara Allen So she went back to her father's house And she heard the church bell tolling And each toll that the bell did ring Called out for Barbara Allen Now she'd not gone back so very far When she saw the funeral coming Lay down, lay down the corpse she cried So that I may gaze upon him Oh father, father, dig my grave And dig it deep and narrow A young man died for me today I shall die for him tomorrow So they both were buried in the old churchyard But she was buried higher And from her grave a red rose grew And from his grave a brier