Lyrics m.j.harris and martyn bates - sheaf and knife

Oh it's whispered in the kitchen and it's whispered in the hall,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
That the king's daughter goes with a child to her brother
And they'll never go down to the broom anymore.

He has taken his sister down to her father's deer park
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
Oh, with a yew-tree bow and arrow slung fast across his back
And they'll never go down to the broom anymore.

“Oh, it's when that you hear me, give a loud cry,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
Shoot from your bow an arrow, and there let me lie
And we'll never go down to the broom anymore.”

“And when that you see that I am lying dead,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
Then you'll dig for me a grave with the turf at my head
And we'll never go down to the broom anymore.”

Oh, it's when that he's heard her give a loud cry,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
Ah, then a silver arrow from his bow he suddenly let fly
And they'll never go down to the broom anymore.

Then he has dug a grave both long, wide and deep,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
And he's buried his own sister with their child at her feet
And they'll never go down to the broom anymore.

Then he has gone back to his father's own hall,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
There was music, there was minstrels and dancing and all
But they'll never go down to the broom anymore.

“Oh Willie, oh Willie, what gives you such pain?”
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
“I have lost a sheath and knife that I'll never see again
And we'll never go down to the broom anymore.”

“There are the ships of your father's all sailing on the sea,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
That'll bring as good a sheath and knife unto thee
But they'll never go down to the broom anymore.”

“There are the ships of my father's all sailing on the sea,
Oh, the broom blooms bonny and the broom blooms fair,
But such a sheath and knife they can never bring to me
And we'll never go down to the broom anymore.”