If you should go to Scarborough fair
There's a field of heather and thyme
Where the breeze shall whisper the name
Of a girl that used to be mine
In this field of purple and green
Under rocks that lay on the ground
Lies my love who never returned
Lies my love who's never been found
It was there where i laid her down
Where the crows all witnessed my crime
While i placed the stones on her grave
In that field of heather and thyme
