
Date of issue: 11.02.2017
Song language: English
High Germany |
Oh Polly love, oh Polly, the road has now begun |
And we must go a marching at the beating of the drum |
Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me |
I’ll take you to the war my love in High Germany |
Oh Willy love, oh Willy, come list' what I do say |
My feet they are so tender, I cannot march away |
And besides my dearest Willy I am with child by thee |
Not fitted for the war my love in High Germany |
I’ll buy for you a horse my love, and on it you shall ride |
And all my delight shall be in riding by your side |
We’ll stop at every alehouse and drink when we are dry |
We’ll be true to one another, get married by and by |
Oh cursed be them cruel war that ever they should rise |
And out of merry England press many a man likewise |
They pressed my true love from me likewise my brothers three |
And sent them to the war my love in High Germany |