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The Young Tradition – The Bitter Withy chords
[Intro] D C G D G D G D C G D G D G [Verse 1]DAs it fell out upon a bright holidayC GSmall hail from the sky did fall;DOur Saviour asked his mother dearG D GIf he might play at ball.[Verse 2]D“At ball? At ball? My own dear son?C GIt's time that you was gone,DBut don't let me hear of any doingsG D GTonight when you return.”[Verse 3]DSo it's up the hill, and down the hillC GOur sweet young Saviour ran,DUntil he met three rich young lordsG D GAll playing in the sun.[Verse 4]D“Good morn, good morn, good morn”, cried they,C G“Good morning,” oh says he,D“And which one of you three rich young lordsG D GWill play at ball with me?”[Verse 5]D“Well, we're all lords' and ladies' sons,C GAll born in a bower and hall,DAnd you are nothing but a Jewish childG D GBorn in an oxen stall”[Instrumental 1] D C G D G D G [Verse 6]D“Well, though you're lords' and ladies' sonsC GAll born in your bower and hallDI'll prove to you at your latter endG D GI'm an angel above you all”[Verse 7]DSo he built him a bridge from the beams of the sunC GAnd over the river danced he;DThem rich young lords followed after himG D GAnd drowned they was all three.[Verse 8]DSo it's up the hill and down the hillC GThree rich young mothers runDCrying “Mary mild, fetch you home your childG D GFor ours he's drowned each one.”[Verse 9]DSo Mary mild fetched home her child,C GShe laid him across her kneeDAnd with a bundle of withy twigsG D GShe gave him thrashes three.[Verse 10]D“Oh bitter withy. oh bitter withyC GThat causes me to smart.DOh the withy shall be very first treeG D GTo perish at the heart.”[Instrumental 2] D C G D G D G