She will regret the day
She went astray
And he will come to rue
The day he took her too

It was late one night and ten years past since the day he’d seen his lady last
When a servant came and said My Lord there’s a woman come knocking at the back stairs door
She’s waiting now in the servant’s hall and in her arms is a black-eyed baby

Her face once fine is drawn and thin she’s dressed like a leper with her cheeks sunk in
Her lank stringy hair is matted and grey she smells like a badger and she won’t go away
she says she’s come back to your hall to stay and she says she’s your Lordship’s lady

So he came down the winding stair his face set hard when he spied her there
With the babe in her arms that hollered and bawled and her bare feet worn from her ten year walk
She fell to her knees on the hard stone floor crying Lord now don’t forsake me

Whack-fol-a-day the merry musings of the harps and the violins played
So we danced ‘til the break of day to the rhythm
Whack-fol-a-day went the music to our hearts as the melodies strayed

He said you left such a long time ago your goose feather bed grew hard and cold
As you stirred his pots and stoked his fires, you slept in a ditch and you bore his child
But when you spread your legs to the call of the wild with a knife to the heart you betrayed me

So I’ll make you a deal that will settle the score and wipe the slate clean once and for all
If you would return to my house and hall you must kill the black-eyed babe you bore
Then with all my militiamen armed for war to the gypsies you must take me

So she agreed and we watched amazed as she borrowed a mop from the scullery maid
She took the babe and stopped its mouth ‘til its struggling ceased and its cries gave out
And My Lord said lay welcome now to honour me forever and obey me

They rode not East and they took no rest for the lady led them South by West
Til they smelled the smoke and spied the lamps and heard the clamour of the gypsy camp
And My Lord to the fore as the troop advanced said I swear not a soul will escape me

They laid waste and they made sport nor paused for breath ‘til they’d killed them all
Revenge is sweet My Lord opined seasoned with the bitterness of passing time
You had your fun now I’ve had mine and there’s none whatsoever that will blame me

So North by East they returned to the hall by fern and bracken by marsh and moor
Til they spied the manse at last through the gloom and the lights shone bright from a hundred rooms
And His Lordship’s smile was a crack of doom on his face as he spoke to the lady

He said the woman I love lies asleep upstairs I’ll go to my room now and find her there
But they’ll make you a bed on a pallet of straw to bicker and squabble in the servant’s hall
As you wash my linen and scrub my floors and take your punishment daily

Intro. C#m G#m
Verse C#m G#m
Chorus C#m G#m