Fair Lucy she sits in her father's garden Weeping and making moan, And by there come her brother dear, “What ails thee, Lucy Wan?”
“I ail, I ail, dear brother,” she cried, “And I'll tell you the reason why: For there is a child between my two sides That's by you, dear brother, and I.”
He's taken out his long broadsword That hung low down by his knee, And he has cut off fair Lucy Wan's head And her fair body in three.
And outen there come her thick heart's blood And outen there come the thin, And he is away to his mother's house, “What ails thee, Geordie Wan?”
“Oh what's that blood on the wide of your sword? My son come tell to me.” “Oh that is the blood of my greyhound, He would not run for me.”
“Oh, your greyhound's blood was ne'er so clear, My son come tell to me.” “Oh that is the blood of my grey mare, She would not ride for me.”
“Oh your grey mare's blood it was ne'er so red, My son come tell to me.” “Oh that not the blood of my grey mare It's the blood of my sister, Lucy.”
“Oh what will you do when you father comes to know? My son come tell me.” “Oh I will set forth in the bottomless boat And I will sail the sea.”
“And when will you come back again? My son come tell to me.” “When the sun and the moon dance on yonder hill And that may never be.”