| Late last night when the squire came home
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| Inquiring for his lady
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| Some denied and some replied
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| She’s gone with the Black Jack Davey
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| Go saddle to me the bonny brown steed
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| For the gray was never so speedy
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| I’ll ride all day and I’ll ride all night
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| Till I catch that Black Jack Davey
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| Oh, he rode up hills and he rode down dales
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| Over many a wild high mountain
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| And they did say that saw him go
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| Black Jack Davey, he is hunting
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| He rode east and he rode west
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| All in the morning early
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| Their he spied his lady fair
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| Cold and wet and weary
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| Oh, why did you leave your house and land
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| Why did you leave your baby
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| Why did you leave your own wedded lord
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| To go with the Black Jack Davey
|
| Oh, he rode up hills and he rode down dales
|
| Over many a wild high mountain
|
| And they did say that saw him go
|
| Black Jack Davey, he is hunting
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| What cared I for your goose feather bed
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| The sheets turned down so bravely
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| Well, I may sleep on the cold hard ground
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| Along with the Black Jack Davey
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| Then I’ll kick off my high healed shoes
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| Made of Spanish leather
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| And I’ll put on my lowland brogues
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| And skip it o’er the heather
|
| Oh, he rode up hills and he rode down dales
|
| Over many a wild high mountain
|
| And they did say that saw him go
|
| Black Jack Davey, he is hunting
|
| Oh, he rode up hills and he rode down dales
|
| Over many a wild high mountain
|
| And they did say that saw him go
|
| Black Jack Davey, he is hunting |