Poor Murdered Woman Lyrics

	作词 : Traditional
	It was Yankee the squire
	As I've heard the men say
	Who rode out a-huntin' on one Saturday.
	They hunted all day but nothing they found
	But a poor murdered woman
	Laid on the cold ground.

	About eight o'clock boys the dogs
	they throwed off
	on Leatherhead Common
	and that was the spot.
	They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
	But a poor murdered woman
	Laid on the cold ground.

	They mounted their horses
	And they rode off the ground
	They rode to the village
	And alarmed it all around.
	It is late in the evening I'm sorry to say
	She cannot be removed until the next day.

	The next Sunday morning about eight o'clock
	Some hundreds of people
	To the spot they did flock
	For to see the poor creature
	[ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/j/john-&-mary-lyrics/the-poor-murdered-woman-lyrics.html ]
	Your hearts would have bled
	Some cold-hearted violence
	Came into their heads.

	She was took off the common
	And down to some inn
	And the man that has kept it,
	His name is John Simms.
	The coroner was sent for, the jury they pined,
	And soon they concluded and settled their mind.

	Her coffin was brought, in it she was laid
	And took to the churchyard
	This cold winter day.
	No father, no mother, no long friend untold
	Came to see the poor creature
	Laid under the cold.

	So now I'll conclude and I'll finish my song
	And those that have damage
	Shall find themselves wrong
	The last day of Judgment
	The trumpet shall sound
	And their souls not in heaven
	I'm afraid won't be found.

	zuo ci : Traditional
	It was Yankee the squire
	As I' ve heard the men say
	Who rode out ahuntin' on one Saturday.
	They hunted all day but nothing they found
	But a poor murdered woman
	Laid on the cold ground.

	About eight o' clock boys the dogs
	they throwed off
	on Leatherhead Common
	and that was the spot.
	They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
	But a poor murdered woman
	Laid on the cold ground.

	They mounted their horses
	And they rode off the ground
	They rode to the village
	And alarmed it all around.
	It is late in the evening I' m sorry to say
	She cannot be removed until the next day.

	The next Sunday morning about eight o' clock
	Some hundreds of people
	To the spot they did flock
	For to see the poor creature
	From: http: www. elyrics. net read j john marylyrics thepoormurderedwomanlyrics. html
	Your hearts would have bled
	Some coldhearted violence
	Came into their heads.

	She was took off the common
	And down to some inn
	And the man that has kept it,
	His name is John Simms.
	The coroner was sent for, the jury they pined,
	And soon they concluded and settled their mind.

	Her coffin was brought, in it she was laid
	And took to the churchyard
	This cold winter day.
	No father, no mother, no long friend untold
	Came to see the poor creature
	Laid under the cold.

	So now I' ll conclude and I' ll finish my song
	And those that have damage
	Shall find themselves wrong
	The last day of Judgment
	The trumpet shall sound
	And their souls not in heaven
	I' m afraid won' t be found.

	zuò cí : Traditional
	It was Yankee the squire
	As I' ve heard the men say
	Who rode out ahuntin' on one Saturday.
	They hunted all day but nothing they found
	But a poor murdered woman
	Laid on the cold ground.

	About eight o' clock boys the dogs
	they throwed off
	on Leatherhead Common
	and that was the spot.
	They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
	But a poor murdered woman
	Laid on the cold ground.

	They mounted their horses
	And they rode off the ground
	They rode to the village
	And alarmed it all around.
	It is late in the evening I' m sorry to say
	She cannot be removed until the next day.

	The next Sunday morning about eight o' clock
	Some hundreds of people
	To the spot they did flock
	For to see the poor creature
	From: http: www. elyrics. net read j john marylyrics thepoormurderedwomanlyrics. html
	Your hearts would have bled
	Some coldhearted violence
	Came into their heads.

	She was took off the common
	And down to some inn
	And the man that has kept it,
	His name is John Simms.
	The coroner was sent for, the jury they pined,
	And soon they concluded and settled their mind.

	Her coffin was brought, in it she was laid
	And took to the churchyard
	This cold winter day.
	No father, no mother, no long friend untold
	Came to see the poor creature
	Laid under the cold.

	So now I' ll conclude and I' ll finish my song
	And those that have damage
	Shall find themselves wrong
	The last day of Judgment
	The trumpet shall sound
	And their souls not in heaven
	I' m afraid won' t be found.

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