Wild Goose Grasses - The Weavers
Written by：Trad Allison
In Tarry town
There did dwell
A handsome youth
I'm not them well
He courted me
My life away
And now with me
He will no longer stay
Wide and deep
Wide and deep
My grave will be
My grave will be
With the wild goose grasses growing
Over me
Wide and deep
Wide and deep
My grave will be
My grave will be
With the wild goose grasses growing
Over me
Well I wore
My apron low
He's follow me
Through ice and snow
Now that I wear
My apron high
He goes right down the street
Passes by
Wide and deep
Wide and deep
My grave will be
My grave will be
With the wild goose grasses growing
Over me
Wide and deep
Wide and deep
My grave will be
My grave will be
With the wild goose grasses growing
Over me
There is an inn
In Tarry town
Where my love goes
And sits him down
He takes another
On his knee
For she has gold and riches
More than me
Wide and deep
Wide and deep
My grave will be
My grave will be
With the wild goose grasses growing
Over me
Wide and deep
Wide and deep
My grave will be
My grave will be
With the wild goose grasses growing
Over me