“I want to finish off with a good song. Erm I, I won't tell you what the song is about. I'm singing it in French and then I shall go home; you'll have to guess.”
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| Old Molly Metcalfe |
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Words & Music: Jake Thackray Old Molly Metcalfe counting sheep Yan tan tether mether pip she counted Up upon Swaledale steep and bleak Yan tan tether mether pip she said. Grow little sheep come hail come snow Yan tan tether mether pip she counted Fine warm wool for a gentleman's shoulderblades Yan tan tether mether pip she said. Over the heather when the weather is cold Yan tan tether mether pip she counted Stiff Molly Metcalfe goes bow-leggedly Yan tan tether mether pip she said. Grow little sheep, come wind come rain Yan tan tether mether pip she counted Fine warm wool for a lady's counterpane, Yan tan tether mether pip she said. On her back in the bracken with frozen bones Yan tan tether mether pip she counted Daft Molly Metcalfe singing alone Yan tan tether mether pip she said. Grow little sheep, come death come dark Yan tan tether mether pip she counted No such wool for Old Molly Metcalfe, Yan tan tether mether pip she said. |