| There was a king, a glorious king
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| A king of noble fame
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| And he had daughters, only one
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| Lady Diamond was her name
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| He had a boy, a kitchen boy
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| A boy of muckle scorn
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| She loved him long, she loved him, aye
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| 'Til the grass o’ergrew the corn
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| When twenty weeks were gone and past
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| Oh, she began to greet
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| Her petticoat and skirts grew short
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| And her stays, they would not meet
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| It fell upon a winter’s night
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| The king felt some strange fear
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| He came unto his daughtr dear
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| Pulled back the curtains long
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| What ailth thee that you shed tear?
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| I worry you’ve been wronged
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| Oh, if I have
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| Despise me not
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| For he is all my joy
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| I will forsake both dukes and earls
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| And marry your kitchen boy
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| Oh, bring to me my merry men
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| All by thirty and by three
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| Oh, bring to me my kitchen boy
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| We’ll murder him secretly
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| Cut the heart from out his breast
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| Put it in a cup of gold
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| Presented to his Diamond dear
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| For she was both stout and bold
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| She took the cup out from their hands
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| Set it at her bed
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| She washed it with her tears that fell
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| By next morning she was dead
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| Oh, where were you, my merry men
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| Who I gave meat and wage
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| That you didn’t stay my cruel hand
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| When I was in a rage?
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| For gone is all my heart’s delight
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| Gone is all my joy
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| For my dear Diamond, she is dead
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| Likewise my kitchen boy |