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Widicombe Fair

by Mad Music

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about

Widicombe Fair: A modern folk song that sounds like a traditional ballad.

lyrics

As I was going to Widicombe Fair,
I met a maid with golden hair,
And skin as white as still-warm milk,
Her dress was of the finest silk.

To Widicombe Fair, to Widicombe Fair,
Where linnets swoop in the August air,
And a gentle maid will ne'er be seen,
At Widicombe Fair in the woods so green.

She said, good sir, pray mark the day,
When you met a maiden on the way,
To Widicombe Fair through woods of green,
A sadder sight was never seen.

To Widicombe Fair, to Widicombe Fair,
Where linnets swoop in the August air,
And a gentle maid will ne'er be seen,
At Widicombe Fair in the woods so green.

I said, fair maid, why do you weep?
She said, I must, a promise, keep,
To wed a lad I ne'er have met,
My body for a father's debt.

To Widicombe Fair, to Widicombe Fair,
Where linnets swoop in the August air,
And a gentle maid will ne'er be seen,
At Widicombe Fair in the woods so green.

And I saw a tear in her soft blue eye,
I heard a magpie in the sky,
As she touched my cheek with a hand so cold,
Good sir, please do not think me bold,
But the waxen moon I ne'er will see,
As winding sheets envelope me.

To Widicombe Fair, to Widicombe Fair,
Where linnets swoop in the August air,
And a gentle maid will ne'er be seen,
At Widicombe Fair in the woods so green.

And I touched her lips with my gloved hand,
I too wore not a wedding band,
And her breath was sweet with the scent of the grave,
The maid, I knew, I ne'er could save,
For she clutched a phial of poison rare,
As she walked alone to Widicombe Fair.

credits

released March 1, 2015
Vocals by Mary Wade
Lyrics by Max Scratchmann
Music Written and Performed by Michael Dyer

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

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Mad Music Edinburgh, UK

"The dastardly duo of Max Scratchmann and Michael Dyer bring you collections of musical virtuosity with more than a few nods to the heyday of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weil!"

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