Blackwater Side - Bert Jansch

One morning fair I took the air

Down by Blackwater side

'twas in gazing all, all around me The Irish lad I spied

All through the far part of the night

We lay in sport and play

Till this young man arose and gathered his clothes

Saying fare-thee-well today

That’s not the promise that you gave to me When first you lay on my breast

You could make me believe with your lying tongue

That the sun rose in the West

Well then go home to your father’s garden

Go home and weep your fill

And think on your own misfortune

That you’ve brought with your wanton will