8 acessos
As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies makin' a mane
The tane untae the tither did say-o where shall we gang and dine the day
In behint yon auld fell dyke I wat there lies a new slain knight
And naebody kens that he lies there-o but his hawk and his hound and his lady fair-o
His hound is tae the hunting gane his hawk tae fetch the wild-fowl hame
His lady's ta'en anither mate-o so we maun make our dinner sweet-o
Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane and I'll pike out his bonny blue een
Wi mony a lock o his gowden hair-o we'll theek our nest when it grows bare-o
Mony a one for him makes mane but nane shall ken where he is gane
O'er his white bones when they are bare-o the wind shall blow for ever mair-o
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