Video The Elf Shot Ploughman » Al Duvall Lyrics | Musica Lyrics

Al Duvall - The Elf Shot Ploughman Lyrics

I be a tidy ploughman and I heed the harvest horn
My mother died a Monday and a Friday was I born
They heard me crying in her grave
They dug the earth for me to save
Now to the soil am I a slave
Whit-de-dan-di-dee

The witches and the fairies make my labors all in vain
At night they work their mischief on the oxen and the grain
They ride my cow from out the shed
And bring her back a-nearly dead
The milk she gives is thick and red
Whit-de-dan-di-dee

I hold my heavy horses in a stable full of charms
Their harnesses are bright with pennies found on lucky farms
I shred the bible in their hay
A trough of rain from Easter Day
And yet they drop and waste away
Whit-de-dan-di-dee

Last autumn did we harvest corn that reached a tidy size
I wove a maiden from the stalks and in my bed she lies
She whispers curses on the crow
But April comes with sleet and snow
And not one kernel left to grow
Whit-de-dan-di-dee
Another jug of zider then I’m headed off to sea
And I bequeath my cursed farm to any fool for free
The heaving brine, the tangled knot
The cat o’nine the pirate’s shot
I’ll take above a farmer’s lot
Whit-de-dan-di-dee