Stonecircle Saucy Sailor
(Traditional) Come my own one, come my fair one Come now unto me Could you fancy a poor sailor lad Who has just come from sea? You are ragged, love; you are dirty, love; And your clothes smell much like tar; So begone, you saucy sailor lad, So begone, you Jack Tar. If I'm ragged, love; and I'm dirty, love; And my clothes smell much like tar; I have silver in me pockets, love, And gold in great store. And then when she heard him say so On her bended knee she fell-- I will marry my dear Henry, For I love the lad so well. Do you think that I am foolish, love? Do you think that I am mad, For to wed with a poor country girl Where no fortune's to be had? I will cross the briny ocean, I will whistle and sing, And since you have refused the offer, love, Some other girl shall wear the ring. I am frolicksome, I am easy, Good-tempered and free, And I don't give a single pin, me boys, What the world thinks of me.