Geordie

Geordie - Orriel Smith

Lyrics by：D. Owen

Composed by：D. Owen

Arranged by：Walter Raim

Produced by：Bill Randle/Bobby Scott

As I walked out over London bridge

One misty morning early

I overheard a fair young maid

Was lamenting for her Geordie

Ah my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain

'Tis not the chain of many

He was born of king's royal breed

And lost to a virtuous lady

Go bridle me my milk white steed

Go bridle me my pony

I will ride to London court

To plead for the life of my Geordie

Ah my Geordie never stole nor cow nor calf

He never hurted any

Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer

And he sold them in Bohenny

Two pretty babies have I born

The third lies in my body

I'd freely part with them every one

If you'd spare the life of Geordie

The judge looked over his left shoulder

He said fair maid I'm sorry

He said fair maid you must be gone

For I cannot pardon Geordie

Ah my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain

'Tis not the chain of many

He was born of king's royal breed

And lost to a virtuous lady