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• Artiste: Mr Fox
• Titre: Mr Fox
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I'll tell you tale of Mr. Fox, how he came courting me, He was the smartest fellow you could ever hope to see. Now Foxy came to our town in the springtime of the year, And he said I was the fairest of any young girl here. My Dad said I should marry him, that I should be his bride, And I saw me walking up the aisle with Foxy by my side, But Foxy was a bit too sly, and I didn't trust his smile, So I told him change the wedding day and put it by awhile. This didn't suit old Mr. Fox, he said I'd rue the day, He pulled his hat down over his eyes and went upon his way, But unbeknown to Foxy, I'd followed through the wood, Till I came across the clearing where his fine old mansion stood. I hadn't been there but a while, when I heard a scream and shout, It was Foxy with a woman a-knocking her about. I hadn't been there but a while when I heard a curse and swear, It was Foxy with a woman, held fast by her hair. He dragged her through the bushes, he dragged her through the trees, It tore my heart in two to see her pleading on her knees. He dragged her up the marble steps, he dragged her through the hall, I followed close behind them and hid against the wall. As they were going up the stairs, the woman gave a wail, She tore away from Fox and clasped her hand around the rail. Foxy took his knife with a blow both sharp and sweet, The hand was severed from the wrist and dropped down at my feet. The night was black, the night was cold, no pathway could I find, But I ran through the trees as if the Devil was behind. The forest it was dark and thick and pricked with many a thorn, But I ran through the trees as if I'd never see the dawn. The very next day old Foxy came to see if we'd be wed. I told that I'd had a dream as I lay in my bed, I told him that I'd seen a house in the middle of the wood, And anyone who went inside, could never come to good. Old Foxy turned his back on me, he turned as if to leave, But I took him by the arm and plucked the hand from out my sleeve. Foxy gave a yelp and then he gave a squeal, And he ran as if the hounds of hell were crying at his heel. In the middle of the forest where the lark and linnet sing, The dogs of the town got Fox inside a ring, They tore him limb from limb, they tore him hair from hair, And his flesh it was eaten by the birds of the air.