Teksty:
Karine Polwart Fairest Floo Er

life's winter will appear Tis then your living bloom will fade And that will strip the verdant shade Oor taste of pleasure then is o'er The feathered

far, far better man Than the one that's lost on Yarrow? ?O faither ye hae seven sons Ye may wed them a' the morrow But the fairest floo-er amang them

Queen Jane lay in labour full six days or more, Till the women grew weary and the midwives gave o'er. They sent for King Henry to come with great speed

three stout and stalwart sons And she sent them o'er the sea They hadna been a month frae her Not one month and a day Till cauld, cauld Death come o'er

ye go tae Flanders, my Mally O? Tae see the bonnie soldiers, my Mally O? They'll gie the pipes a blaw, Wi their kilts and plaids sae braw, Ae the fairest