Brisk Lad

I am a brisk lad and my fortune is quite bad,

In fact I am wondrous poor.

But it's I do intend my fortune to mend,

I s'll build me an house down on the moor, my brave boys,

I shall build me an house down on the moor.

My father he keeps fat oxen and sheep

And a neat little nag on the down.

But in the middle of the night when the moon do shine bright

There's a number of jobs to be done, my brave boys,

There's a number of jobs to be done.

For it's I'll roam around on some other man's ground,

I s'll take a fat ewe from his pack.

And with the aid of my knife, I shall shorten its life

And I'll carry him home on my back, me brave boys,

I shall carry him home on my back.

Then my children shall pull the skin from the wool,

I'll carve him up to the bone.

And when the constable do come I'll stand there with my gun

And I'll swear all I have is my own, my brave boys,

I shall swear all I have is my own.