Farewell to Old Bedford
Farewell to Old Bedford, I'm bound for to leave you
Likewise those pretty girls I nevermore shall see;
My portion is small but I truly confess it
What little I have, it is all my own.
Well might I have enjoyed it, all in pleasure
If my cruel parents had left me alone;
I will drown away sorrow in a full-flowing bumper
I will drown away sorrow in a bottle of wine.
Eight drams a bottle is, and I don't care for folly
Now never let trouble come into your mind,
I will drown her away in a full-flowing bumper
I will drown away sorrow in a bottle of wine.
Eight drams a bottle is, and I don't care for folly
I play on my fiddle and dance all the time,
My fingers are frozen, My bow it needs rosin
My soundpost is down, and my bridge it won't stand.
Frank Warner collected this from Lee Presnell in 1951
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Farewell to Old Bedford
Farewell to Old Bedford, I'm bound for to leave you
Likewise those pretty girls I nevermore shall see;
My portion is small but I truly confess it
What little I have, it is all my own.
Well might I have enjoyed it, all in pleasure
If my cruel parents had left me alone;
I will drown away sorrow in a full-flowing bumper
I will drown away sorrow in a bottle of wine.
Eight drams a bottle is, and I don't care for folly
Now never let trouble come into your mind,
I will drown her away in a full-flowing bumper
I will drown away sorrow in a bottle of wine.
Eight drams a bottle is, and I don't care for folly
I play on my fiddle and dance all the time,
My fingers are frozen, My bow it needs rosin
My soundpost is down, and my bridge it won't stand.
Frank Warner collected this from Lee Presnell in 1951
Farewell to Old Bedford, I'm bound for to leave you
Likewise those pretty girls I nevermore shall see;
My portion is small but I truly confess it
What little I have, it is all my own.
Well might I have enjoyed it, all in pleasure
If my cruel parents had left me alone;
I will drown away sorrow in a full-flowing bumper
I will drown away sorrow in a bottle of wine.
Eight drams a bottle is, and I don't care for folly
Now never let trouble come into your mind,
I will drown her away in a full-flowing bumper
I will drown away sorrow in a bottle of wine.
Eight drams a bottle is, and I don't care for folly
I play on my fiddle and dance all the time,
My fingers are frozen, My bow it needs rosin
My soundpost is down, and my bridge it won't stand.
Frank Warner collected this from Lee Presnell in 1951