In fair Nottamun Town, not a soul would look up
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
To show me the way to fair Nottamun Town
I rode a grey horse, a mule roany mare
Grey mane and grey tail, green striped on her back
Grey mane and grey tail, green striped on her back
There wa'nt a hair on her be-what was coal black
She stood so still, She threw me to the dirt
She tore -a my hide, and she bruised my shirt
From saddle to stirrup I mounted again
And on our ten toes we rode over the plain'
Met the King and the Queen and the company more
Came a riding behind and a walking before
Come a stark naked drummer, -a beating a drum
With his heels in his bosom come marching along
I bought me a quart to drive gladness away
And to stifle the dust, for it rained the whole day
Sat down on a hard, hot cold frozen stone
Ten thousand stood round me yet I's alone
Took my hat in my hand, for to keep my head warm
Ten thousand got drowned that never was born
Writer(s): Traditional, Isobel Campbell
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