Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seam or needlework
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to plough it with one ram's horn
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And sow it all over with one peppercorn
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And gather it all in a bunch of heather
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Variations
There are many variations of this song which is probably about 500 years old. At camp we usually sing a shorter version, popularised by Simon and Garfunkel in the 1970s. On the right is a longer traditional version, where the man and woman each set each other a series of tasks.
The herbs in the refrain are symbolic: parsley takes away bitterness, sage and thyme respectively symbolise strength and courage, while rosemary represents faithfulness, love and remembrance.
SCARBOROUGH FAIR (A traditional version)
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seam nor fine needlework
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Where water ne'er sprung nor rain ever fell
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Can you find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea-sand?
Or you'll never be a true love of mine
Can you plough it with a lamb's horn?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And sow it all over with one peppercorn ?
Or you'll never be a true love of mine
Can you reap it with a sickle of leather?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And gather it up in a bundle of heather?
Or you'll never be a true love of mine
When you have done and finished your work
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me for your cambric shirt
For then you'll be a true love of mine
If you say that you can't, then I shall reply
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Oh, Let me know that at least you will try
Or you'll never be a true love of mine
Guitar chords for Scarborough Fair
Am G Am
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
C Am D Am
Parsley, sage, rose-mary and thyme
F C G
Re-member me to one who lives there
Am G Am
She once was a true love of mine
Hey! Mister Tambourine man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey! Mister Tambourine man play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you
Though I know that evening's empire has returned to sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet
I have no-one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming
Hey! Mr Tambourine man...
Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship
My senses have been stripped
My hands can't feel to grip
Toes too numb to step
Wait only for my boot heels to be wandering
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it
Hey! Mr Tambourine man...
Though you might hear laughing, spinning, singing
madly across the sun
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escaping on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facing
And if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time
It's just a ragged clown behind, I wouldn't pay it any mind
It's just a shadow you are seeing that he's chasing
Hey! Mr Tambourine man...
Then take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate, driven deep beneath the waves
Let's forget about today until tomorrow
Hey! Mister Tambourine man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey! Mister Tambourine man play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you
Bob Dylan
Show me the prison, show me the jail
Show me the prisoner whose life has gone stale
And I'll show you, young man so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I
Show me the alley, show me the train
Show me the hobo who sleeps out in the rain
And I'll show you, young man so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I
Show me the whisky stains on the floor
Show me the drunkard as he staggers out the door
And I'll show you, young man so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I
Show me the country where the bombs had to fall
Show me the ruins of the buildings once so tall
And I'll show you, young man so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I
I was born one morning when the sun didn't shine
Picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal
And the store boss said, God bless my soul
You load sixteen tons and what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
St Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Now some people say a man is made out of mud
But a poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood, and skin and bone
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons...
I was born one morning in the drizzling rain
Fighting and trouble are my middle name
I was raised in the cane brake by an old mother line
Can't get a high tone woman make me walk the line
You load sixteen tons...
Now if you see me coming better step aside
A lot of men didn't and a lot of men died
One fist of iron and the other of steel
If the right one don't get you then the left one will
You load sixteen tons and what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
St Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Guitar chords for Sixteen Tons
Dm A7
I was born one morning when the sun didn't shine
Dm A7
I picked up me shovel and I walked to the mine
Dm Dm/C, Dm/B(Bø) Bb7
I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal
Dm A7 Dm
And the store boss said, God bless my soul
Dm A7
You load sixteen tons and what do you get?
Dm A7
An-other day older and deeper in debt
Dm Dm/C Dm/B(Bø), Bb7
St Peter don't you call me, 'cos I can't go
Dm A7 Dm
I owe my soul to the company store
Don't you want to go to heaven Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe?
Don't you want to go to heaven Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe?
Don't you want to go to heaven Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe?
Don't mind the weather, so the wind don't blow
Hop high, my ladies, three in a row
Hop high, my ladies, three in a row
Hop high, my ladies, three in a row
Don't mind the weather, so the wind don't blow
Yes I want to go to heaven, just the same as any man
Yes I want to go to heaven, just the same as any man
Yes I want to go to heaven just the same as any man
But I can't go to heaven with a possum in my hand
Hop high, my ladies, three in a row
Hop high, my ladies, three in a row
Hop high, my ladies, three in a row
Don't mind the weather, so the wind don't blow
As sung by Jean Richie.
This song is about 200 years old and originates from Kentucky
About a maid I'll sing a song
Sing rickety tickety tin
About a maid I'll sing a song
Who did not have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong
She did every one of them in, them in
She did every one of them in
Her mother she could never stand
Sing rickety tickety tin
Her mother she could never stand
And so a cyanide soup she planned
The mother died with a spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin
Her face in a hideous grin
She weighted her brother down with stones
Rickety tickety tin
She weighted her brother down with stones
And sent him down to Davy Jones
All they ever found were some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin
And occasional pieces of skin
One morning in a fit of pique
Rickety tickety tin
One morning in a fit of pique
She drowned her father in the creek
The water tasted bad for a week
And we had to make do with gin, with gin
We had to make do with gin
She set her sister's hair on fire
Rickety tickety tin
She set her sister's hair on fire
And as the smoke and flames rose higher
She danced around the funeral pyre
Playing a violin, 'olin
Playing a violin
One day when she had nothing to do
Rickety tickety tin
One day when she had nothing to do
She cut her baby brother in two
And served him up as an Irish stew
And invited the neighbours in, 'bours in
And invited the neighbours in
And when at last the police came by
Sing rickety tickety tin
And when at last the police came by
Her little pranks she did not deny
To do so she would have had to lie
And lying she knew was a sin, a sin
And lying she knew was a sin
My tragic tale I won't prolong
Rickety tickety tin
My tragic tale I won't prolong
And if you do not enjoy my song
You've yourselves to blame if it's too long
You should never have let me begin, begin
You should never have let me begin
Tom Lehrer
O you are a mucky kid
Dirty as a dustbin lid
When he finds out the things you did
You'll get a belt from your Dad
O you have your Father's nose
So crimson in the dark it glows
If you're not asleep when the boozer's closed
You'll get a belt from your Dad
You look so scruffy lying there
Strawberry jam tats in your hair
Though in the world you haven't a care
And I have got so many
It's a struggle every day
Living on your father's pay
The bugger drinks it all away
And leaves me without any
Although we have no silver spoon
Better days are coming soon
Now Nelly's working at the Lune
And she gets paid on Friday
Perhaps one day we'll make a splash
When Littlewoods supply the cash
We'll get a home In Knotty Ash
And buy your Dad a brewery
O you are a mucky kid
Dirty as a dustbin lid
When he finds out the things you did
You'll get a belt from your Dad
O you have your Father's face
You're growing up a real hard case
But there's no-one else to take your place
So go to sleep for your Mammy
Come to the colours Johnny, come (x4)
No I don't want to leave you, but I know I must go (x2)
Stay with me, stay with me don't go
Hush little baby don't you cry
You know your Mamma was born to die
All my trials, Lord, soon be over
The River Jordan is muddy and cold
Well it chills the body but not the soul
All my trials, Lord, soon be over
I've got a little book with pages three
And every page spells liberty
All my trials, Lord, soon be over
If living were a thing that money could buy
You know the rich would live, and the poor would die
All my trials, Lord, soon be over
There grows a tree in Paradise
And the pilgrims call it the tree of life
Too late, my brothers, too late, but never mind
Just a little rain falling all around,
The grass lifts its head to the heavenly sound.
Just a little rain, just a little rain,
What have they done to the rain?
Just a little boy standing in the rain
The gentle rain that falls for years
And the grass is gone, the boy disappears
And rain keeps falling like helpless tears
What have they done to the rain?
Just a little breeze out of the sky
The leaves nod their heads as the breeze blows by
Just a little breeze, with some smoke in its eye
What have they done to the rain?
Just a little boy standing in the rain
The gentle rain that falls for years
And the grass is gone, the boy disappears
And rain keeps falling like helpless tears
What have they done to the rain?
Malvina Reynolds