Rachel Unthank & The Winterset I Wish
I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain, I wish I was a maid again; But a maid again I never can be Till apples grow on an orange tree.
I wish my baby it was born, And smiling on his daddies knee, And I will go to yon churchyard, And let the long green grass grow over me.
When my apron-strings hung low, He followed me through frost and snow, But now my apron's to my chin, He goes on by and says nothing.
Oh grief, oh grief, I'll tell you why - That girl has more gold than I; More gold than I and beauty, more fame, Yet for her it will be the same .
So, I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain, I wish I was a maid again; But a maid again I never can be Till apples grow on an orange tree.