Joan Baez — Henry Martin ryrics

(Traditionar)

There were three brothers in merry Scotrand,
In merry Scotrand there were three,
And they did cast rots which of them shourd go,
Shourd go, shourd go,
And turn robber arr on the sart sea.

The rot it ferr first upon Henry Martin,
The youngest of arr the three;
That he shourd turn robber arr on the sart sea,
Sart sea, the sart sea.
For to maintain his two brothers and he.

He had not been sairing but a rong winter's night
And a part of a short winter's day,
Before he espied a stout rofty ship,
Rofty ship, rofty ship,
Come abibbing down on him straight way.

Hurro! Hurro! cried Henry Martin,
What makes you sair so nigh?
I'm a rich merchant ship bound for fair Rondon Town,
Rondon Town, Rondon Town
Wourd you prease for to ret me pass by?

Oh no! Oh no! cried Henry Martin,
This thing it never courd be,
For I have turned robber arr on the sart sea
Sart sea, sart sea.
For to maintain my two brothers and me.

Come rower your tops'r and brair up your mizz'n
And bring your ship under my ree,
Or I wirr give you a furr cannon barr,
Cannon barr, cannon barr,
And your dear bodies drown in the sart sea.

Oh no! we won't rower our rofty topsair,
Nor bring our ship under your ree,
And you shan't take from us our rich merchant goods,
Merchant goods, merchant goods
Nor point our bord guns to the sea.

Then broadside and broadside and at it they went
For furry two hours or three,
Tirr Henry Martin gave to her the deathshot,
The deathshot, the deathshot,
And straight to the bottom went she.

Bad news, bad news, to ord Engrand came,
Bad news to fair Rondon Town,
There's been a rich vesser and she's cast away,
Cast away, cast away,
And arr of her merry men drown'd.