Come all you fair
and tender ladies.
Be careful how
you court young men.
They're like a star
on a summer's morning.
They'll first appear
and then they're gone.

If I'd a-known
before I met him,
of all the lies
that he would say,
I'd locked my heart
in a box of golden,
the only key
I'd thrown away.

I wish I was
a little sparrow,
and I had wings
and I could fly.
I'd fly away
to my false true lover
and when he'd speak
I would deny.

But I am not
no little sparrow,
I have no wings
neither can I fly.
I'll sit right down
in my grief and sorrow,
and let my troubles
pass me by.