Songs and Lyrics

Version 1

%abc-2.1
X:1
T:Believe It, Friend
C:Trad
Z:Webmaster
K:
W:1
W: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
W:'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
W: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
W: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
W: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.

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