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LRC歌词
"In Scarlet Town, where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin’,
Made ev’ry youth cry ‘Well-a-day!’
Her name was Barb’ra Allen.
All in the merry month of May
When green buds they were swellin’,
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay
For love of Barb’ra Allen.
Then slowly, slowly she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when there she came,
‘Young man, I think you’re dying’.
As she was walking o’er the fields
She heard the dead-bell knellin’,
And ev’ry stroke the dead-bell gave
Cried ‘Woe to Barb’ra Allen!’
When he was dead and laid in grave
Her heart was struck with sorrow,
‘O mother, mother, make my bed,
For I shall die tomorrow’.
‘Farewell,’ she said, ‘ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in;
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barb’ra Allen.’
"
There was a fair maid dwellin’,
Made ev’ry youth cry ‘Well-a-day!’
Her name was Barb’ra Allen.
All in the merry month of May
When green buds they were swellin’,
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay
For love of Barb’ra Allen.
Then slowly, slowly she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when there she came,
‘Young man, I think you’re dying’.
As she was walking o’er the fields
She heard the dead-bell knellin’,
And ev’ry stroke the dead-bell gave
Cried ‘Woe to Barb’ra Allen!’
When he was dead and laid in grave
Her heart was struck with sorrow,
‘O mother, mother, make my bed,
For I shall die tomorrow’.
‘Farewell,’ she said, ‘ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in;
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barb’ra Allen.’
"
文本歌词
"In Scarlet Town, where I was born,There was a fair maid dwellin’,Made ev’ry youth cry ‘Well-a-day!’Her name was Barb’ra Allen.All in the merry month of MayWhen green buds they were swellin’,Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed layFor love of Barb’ra Allen.Then slowly, slowly she came up,And slowly she came nigh him,And all she said when there she came,‘Young man, I think you’re dying’.As she was walking o’er the fieldsShe heard the dead-bell knellin’,And ev’ry stroke the dead-bell gaveCried ‘Woe to Barb’ra Allen!’When he was dead and laid in graveHer heart was struck with sorrow,‘O mother, mother, make my bed,For I shall die tomorrow’.‘Farewell,’ she said, ‘ye virgins all,And shun the fault I fell in;Henceforth take warning by the fallOf cruel Barb’ra Allen.’"
