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Folk Song

X:1 T:Believe It, Friend C:Trad N: Z:Webmaster K: W:1 Believe it, friend. We care not for ye, W:And therefore, Roundhead, I am sorry W:To see you play the fool. W:Go, get thee packing hence, 'tis fit, W:And there be pleased to learn more wit, W:Thy Puritan heels to cool. W: W:2 'Tis not your three score wagons, no, W:Nor all those things that make a show, W:As if your men were pedlars, W:Can us affright, nor Devereux, W:Nor Carrill, nor the men with a pox, W:That were y-cleped our saddlers. W: W:3 Nor yet your cannon, six in number, W:That fain would make us think of thunder, W:Can startle our commanders. W:Our officers have served the States W:Of Holland, and have broke men's pates, W:As I have heard, in Flanders. W: W:4 You tell us that we robbed the town, W:You lie, my friend, it was our own, W:We brought the beef and bacon. W:The townsmen they will lie a little, W:What do you think we'd rob the Spital? W:Oh Lord, you are mistaken. W: W:5 What, will her storm us then? Fall on! W:But have a care, my name is Shon, W:Here's ready to receive you. W:The Welshmen they do swear apace, W:They'll die before they lose this place, W:And make your hopes deceive you. % % % % % % %After The Campfire Song Book % %My Own Song Book % %The Song And The Story % %Songs From Hazzards Huzzah %

					
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