I am a brisk lad but my fortune is bad, And I am most wonderful poor. Oh, indeed I intend my life for to mend And to build a house down on the moor, brave boys And to build a house down on the moor.
The farmer he do keep fat oxen and sheep In a neat little nag on the downs. In the middle of the night when the moon do shine bright, There's a number of work to be done, brave boys, There's a number of work to be done.
Then I'll roam all around in another man's ground, And I'll take a fat sheep for my own. Oh, I'll end his life by the aid of my knife And then I will carry him home, brave boys, And then I will carry him home. My children will pull the skin from the ewe And I'll be in a place where there's none. When the constable do come, I'll stand with my gun And swear all I have is my own, brave boys, And swear all I have is my own.
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