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Pentangle - The Trees They Do Grow High Lyrics



Pentangle - The Trees They Do Grow High Lyrics




The trees they grow high and the leaves they do grow green
Many is the time my true love I've seen
Many an hour I've watched him all alone
He's young but he's daily growing

Father, dear father, you've done me great wrong
You have married me to a boy who is too young
I'm twice twelve and he is but fourteen
He's young but he's daily growing

Daughter, dear daughter, I've done you no wrong
I've married you to a great Lord's son
He'll be a man to you when I am dead and gone
He's young, but he's daily growing

Father, dear father, if you see fit
We'll send my love to college for one year yet
Tie blue ribbons all around his head
To let the ladies know that he's married

One day I was looking over my father's castle wall
Saw all the boys aplaying with the ball
My own true love was the flower of them all
He's young, but he's daily growing

At the age of fourteen he was a married man
Age of fifteen the father of a son
Age of sixteen on his grave the grass was green
Cruel death had put an end to his growing

I'll make my love a shroud at the hole in so fine
Every stitch I put in it, the tears come trickling down
Once I had a true love but not narrow one
But I'll watch out his son 'cause he's growing
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The trees they grow high and the leaves they do grow green
Many is the time my true love I've seen
Many an hour I've watched him all alone
He's young but he's daily growing

Father, dear father, you've done me great wrong
You have married me to a boy who is too young
I'm twice twelve and he is but fourteen
He's young but he's daily growing

Daughter, dear daughter, I've done you no wrong
I've married you to a great Lord's son
He'll be a man to you when I am dead and gone
He's young, but he's daily growing

Father, dear father, if you see fit
We'll send my love to college for one year yet
Tie blue ribbons all around his head
To let the ladies know that he's married

One day I was looking over my father's castle wall
Saw all the boys aplaying with the ball
My own true love was the flower of them all
He's young, but he's daily growing

At the age of fourteen he was a married man
Age of fifteen the father of a son
Age of sixteen on his grave the grass was green
Cruel death had put an end to his growing

I'll make my love a shroud at the hole in so fine
Every stitch I put in it, the tears come trickling down
Once I had a true love but not narrow one
But I'll watch out his son 'cause he's growing
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: TRADITIONAL, SIMON FOWLER
Copyright: Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing

Back to: Pentangle



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