| Are you goin' to Scarborough Fair? |
| Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
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| Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine.
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| Tell her to make me a cambric shirt (On the side of a hill in the deep forest
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| green).
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme (Tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground).
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| Without no seams nor needlework (Blankets and bedclothes the child of the
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| mountain).
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| Then she’ll be a true love of mine (Sleeps unaware of the clarion call).
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| Tell her to find me an acre of land (On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of
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| leaves).
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme (Washes the grave with silvery tears).
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| Between salt water and the sea strands (A soldier cleans and polishes a gun).
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| Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
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| Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather (War bellows, blazing in scarlet
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| battalions).
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme (Generals order their soldiers to kill).
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| And gather it all in a bunch of heather (And to fight for a cause they’ve long
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| ago forgotten).
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| Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
|
| Are you going to Scarborough Fair? |
| Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
|
| Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine. |