The Month Of January

The Month of January - Tommy Makem

It was in the month of January

The hills were clad in snow

As over hills and mountains

My true love he did go

It was there he spied

A pretty fair maid

With a salt tear in her eye

She had a baby in her arms

And bitter she did cry

Oh cruel was my father

To bar the door on me

And cruel was my mother

This dreadful crime to see

Cruel was my own true love

To change his mind for gold

Cruel was that winter's night

That pierced my heart with cold

Oh the taller that the palm tree grows

The sweeter is the bark

And the fairer that a young man speaks

The falser is his heart

He will kiss you and embrace you

'Til he thinks he has you won

Then he'll go away and leave you

All for some other one

Oh come all you pretty fair maids

A warning take by me

And never try to build your nest

On top of any tree

For the roots they will all wither

And the branches all decay

And the beauties of a false young man

Must all soon fade away