When I was a bachelor I lived all alone
And I worked to do weaver's trade
And the only, only thing that I ever did it wrong
Was to woo a fair young maid
I wooed her in the winter time and in the summer too
And the only, only thing I did that was wrong
Was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew
One night she came to my bed side
When I lay fast to sleep
She laid her head upon my bed
And she began to weep
She sight, she cried, she den dear digit
She said: What shell I do
So I hold her into bed and I covered up her head
Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew
Now I am a bachelor I live with my son
And We work at the weaver's trade
And every single time that I look into his eyes
He reminds me of the fair young maid
He reminds me of the winter time and of the summer too
And of the many, many times that I held her in my arms
Just To keep her from the foggy, foggy dew
The many, many times that I held her in my arms
Just To keep her from the foggy, foggy dew
Writer(s): Tom Paxton
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