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acoustic guitar folk guitar indie folk liveplay lyrics peaceful vocals

as the deadline for my own battle stared me down i leafed through a dusty book of traditional folk lyrics in search of inspiration. one jumped out at me - a short ballad in rhyming couplets about infanticide. the mixture of simple structure and macabre subject matter reminded me of the kind of material which fascinated me as a child. i set it to original music, threw an arrangement together in a hurry, and hereby present the product for your listening enjoyment.

She sat down below a thorn,
⠀⠀Fine flowers in the valley
And there she has her sweet babe born.
⠀⠀And the green leaves they grow so rarely

'Smile na sae sweet, my bonie babe,
And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead.'

She's taen out her little pen-knife,
And twinnd the sweet babe o it's life.

She's howket a grave by the light o the moon,
And there she's buried her sweet babe in.

As she was going to the church,
She saw a sweet babe in the porch.

'O sweet babe, and thou were mine,
I wad cleed thee in silk so fine.'

'O mother dear, when I was thine,
You did na prove to me sae kind.'

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