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Description
This is English music at its most raw and ethnic ... maybe not everybody's cup of tea but I felt like recording it just as it is.
All these old folk songs keep pouring out of me at the moment. The ancestors have got hold of me and given me a good shaking ...
All these old folk songs keep pouring out of me at the moment. The ancestors have got hold of me and given me a good shaking ...
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Lyrics
Come all you fair and tender girls
That flourish in your prime
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair
Let no man steal your thyme
For when your thyme it is past and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place where your thyme was waste
Shall spread all o'er with rue
For a woman is a branchy tree
And man a clinging vine
And from her branches carelessly
He'll take what he can find
That flourish in your prime
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair
Let no man steal your thyme
For when your thyme it is past and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place where your thyme was waste
Shall spread all o'er with rue
For a woman is a branchy tree
And man a clinging vine
And from her branches carelessly
He'll take what he can find



















































apb
..I'm glad these traditional songs are being surfaced through the medium
of Rebsie ..
a strong message to young woman of the wicked ways of us men .. and
a timeless one ..
your voice is perfect and totally 'right' for these kind of melodies ..
well sung/performed and I hardy missed any backing, although I think
it overall may benefit from some.
oh -- mint sauce, not thyme .. ;o)