paroles de chanson Bitter Withy - Maddy Prior
As
I
fell
out
on
a
bright
holiday
Small
hail
from
the
sky
did
fall
Our
Saviour
asked
his
mother
dear
If
he
might
go
and
play
at
ball
"At
ball?
At
ball?
My
own
dear
son?
It's
time
that
you
were
gone,
And
don't
let
me
hear
any
mischief
At
night
when
you
come
home."
So
it's
up
the
hill,
and
down
the
hill
Our
sweet
young
Saviour
run,
Until
he
met
three
rich
young
lords
"Good
morning"
to
each
one.
"Good
morn",
"good
morn",
"good
morn"
Said
they,
"Good
morning"
then
said
He
"And
which
one
of
you
three
rich
young
lords
Will
play
at
the
ball
with
me?"
"Ah,
we're
all
lords'
and
ladies'
sons
Born
in
a
bower
and
hall
And
you
are
nought
but
a
poor
maid's
child
Born
in
an
ox's
stall"
"If
I
am
nought
but
a
poor
maid's
child
Born
in
a
ox's
stall
I'll
make
you
believe
at
your
latter
end
I'm
an
angel
above
you
all"
So
he
made
a
bridge
of
beams
of
the
sun
And
over
the
river
ran
he
And
after
him
ran
these
rich
young
lords
And
drowned
they
all
three.
Then
it's
up
the
hill,
and
it's
down
the
hill
Three
rich
young
mothers
run
Crying
"Mary
Mild,
fetch
home
her
child
For
ours
he's
drowned
each
one."
So
Mary
Mild
fetched
home
her
child
And
laid
him
across
her
knee
And
with
a
handful
of
withy
twigs
She
gave
him
lashes
three.
"Ah
bitter
withy.
Ah
bitter
withy
That
causes
me
to
smart,"
And
the
withy
shall
be
very
first
tree
To
perish
at
the
heart.
1 Sheath & Knife
2 Bitter Withy
3 Quest
4 Joseph Was A Tin Man
5 Maman
6 John
7 Fields Of The Cloth Of Gold
8 The Name Of Arthur
9 Veturae Remembering
10 Hallows I
11 Queen And Sovereignty
12 Hallows Ii
13 Tribal Warriors
14 Hallows Iii
15 Sentry
16 Hallows Iv
17 Once & Future King
18 Jupiter
19 Hind Horn
20 Ravenchild
21 Dance On The Wind
22 The Templar Knight
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