paroles de chanson High Germany - Pentangle

Oh, Polly, love, oh, Polly, the rout has now begun
And we must march away at the beating of the drum
Go dress yourself in all your best and go along with me
I'll take you to the cruel wars in high Germany

They fear the treacherous journey, bitter cold and burning heat
Rough roads and stony mountains they will all die turned to feet
To your kinsmen I could prove untrue, from them I do go
For maids must bide at their parents'
Side while their men do face the foe

I'll buy for you a horse, my love, and on it you will ride
And all of my contentment will be riding at my side
We'll stop at every alehouse and drink when we are dry
So quickly on the road, my love, we'll worry by and by

Oh, Billy, love, oh, Billy, now mind what I do say
My feet they are so tired I cannot go away
Besides, my dearest Billy, I am betrothed by thee
And I won't sit and bore the cruel wars in high Germany

Oh, Polly, love, oh, Polly, I love you very well
There are fewer any place, my Polly, that excel
And when your baby's born and smiling on your knee
You will flee and move Billy, that's in high Germany

Oh, cursed be the cruel wars that ever they began
For they have cost my Billy and many a better man
For they have cost my Billy, my wives, my brothers three
And sent them to the cruel wars in high Germany