The Corries - Hugh The Graeme | Текст песни

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• The Corries
• Hugh The Graeme

Our lords hae to the hunting gane
A-hunting o' the fallow dear
And they hae gripped Hughie Graham
For stealing o' the bishop's mare

Well lowse my right hand free, he said
And put my brand intae the same
He's ne'er in Carlisle toon the day
Daur tell the tale tae Hughie Graham

They've ta'en him tae the gallows hill
And he looke`d up at the gallows tree
Yet ne'er did colour leave his cheek
Nor did he even blink his ee

And ye may gie my brother James
My sword that's bent in the middle clear
And bid him come at twelve o'clock
To see me pay the bishop's mare

And ye may gie to my brother John
My sword that's bent in the middle broon
And bid him come at two o'clock
To see his brother Hugh cut down

And ye may tell my kith and kin
I never did disgrace their blood
And if they meet the bishop's cloak
To mak' it shorter by the hood

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