Foggy, Foggy Dew (Traditional)
When I was a bachelor, I lived all alone, I
worked at the weaver's trade. And the only, only
thing that I did that was wrong was to woo a
fair young maid. I wooed her in the wintertime,
and part of the summer too. And the only, only
thing that I did that was wrong was to keep her
from the foggy, foggy dew.
One night she knelt close by my side when I was
fast asleep. She threw her arms around my neck
and then began to weep. She wept, she cried, she
tore her hair, ah, me, what could I do? So all
night long I held her in my arms just to keep
her from the foggy, foggy dew.
Again I'm a bachelor, I live with my son, We
work at the weaver's trade. And every single
time I look into his eyes, he reminds me of the
fair young maid. He reminds me of the
wintertime, and part of the summer too, and the
many, many times that I held her in my arms,
just to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.
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(to help remember the tune).
