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Bobbie Allen

from Lips of Clay by Solarference

/

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lyrics

It was in and about the Martinmas time
When the green leaves were falling
That Sir John the Graham from the north country
Fell in love with Bobbie Allen

He sent his man about the town
To the place where she was dwelling
"Come down, come down, to my master dear,
Can your name be Bobbie Allen?"

Slowly, slowly, she's got up,
And it's slowly she's got to him
And when she came to his bedside
Said "Young man, I think you're dying."

"Oh I'm sick, and I'm sick, and I'm very sick,
And it's all for Bobbie Allen,
It's better for me if you'd never been,
Cruel-hearted Bobbie Allen"

"When you were in the tavern, sir,
And at the wine were swilling,
You made the toast go round and round,
And you slighted Bobbie Allen."

He's turned his face unto the wall
For death was with him dealing
"Farewell, farewell, my good friends all,
But be kind to Bobbie Allen.

... And put your hand against my side,
It's there you'll find a token
Take my gold watch and my gold ring
And give them to Bobbie Allen

... And put your hand against my side,
It's there you'll find a wound,
It's there you'll find my blood-soaked sack
For i bled for Bobbie Allen."

She had not gone a step, a step
When she heard the death bell knolling
And every clack that death bell gave
It said woe to Bobbie Allen

"Mother, come and make my bed,
You'd make it soft and narrow,
My love has died for me this tide,
I'll die for him the morrow."

credits

from Lips of Clay, released September 26, 2012

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Solarference UK

Solarference is vocalists & sound artists Nic Janaway and Sarah Owen, combining traditional folk songs with innovative electronic sound-manipulation: intense live energy, unearthly but warm, lyrical and organic sound-worlds.

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