Steeleye Span - Copshawholme Fair lyrics

Traditional On a fine eve'n fair in the month of Avril O'er the hill came the man with the blythe sunny smile And the folks they were throngin' the roads everywhere Makin' haste to be in at Copshawholme Fair I've seen 'em a-comin' in from the mountains and glens Those rosy-faced la**es and strappin' young men With a joy in their heart and unburdened o' care A'meetin' old friends at Copshawholme Fair There are lads for the la**es, there's toys for the bairns There jugglers and tumblers and folks with no arms There's a balancing act here and a fiddler there There are nut-men and spice-men at Copshawholme Fair There are peddlers and potters and gingerbread stands There are peepshows and poppin-darts and the green caravans There's fruit from all nations exhibited there With kale plants from Orange at Copshawholme Fair And now above all the hiring if you want to hear tell You should ken it as afar I've seen it myself What wages they adle it's ill to declare The muckle they vary at Copshawholme Fair Just the gal I have seen she's a strapping young queen He asked what her age was and where she had been What work she'd been doin', how long she'd been there What wages she wanted at Copshawholme Fair Just then the bit la** stood a wee while in gloom And she blushed and she scraped with her feet on the ground Then she plucked up her heart and did stoutly declare Well, a five pound and turn at Copshawholme Fair Says he, but me la**, that's a very big wage Then he'd turning about like he been in a rage Says, I'll give ye five pounds but I'll give ye nay mare Well I think him and tuck it at Copshawholme Fair He took out a shilling but to haul the bit wench In case it might enter her head for to flinch But she grabbed it muttering I should have had mare But I think I will tuck it at Copshawholme Fair Now the hirin's o'er and off they all sprang Into the ballroom for to join in the throng And "I Never Will Lie With My Mammy Nae Mair" The fiddles play briskly at Copshawholme Fair Now this is the fashion they thus pa**ed the day Till the night comin' on they all hurry away And some are so sick that they'll never join more With the fighting and dancing at Copshawholme Fair