Martin Carthy - Virginny lyrics

Now come all you young fellers where'er you may be Come listen a while and I'll tell you It's many's the young man myself I have seen More fitting to serve than to die on a string But how odd were the judges, how cruel they have been For to send us poor lads to Virginny Now when we come to Virginny, that cold shameful place, Which now I recall in my story Our captain did stand with his whip and his cane To bargain for us poor souls out of hand Like horses they yoked us that had ploughed the salt main How hard was my fate in Virginny O England, sweet England, I fear I'll never see you more And if I do, it's ten thousand to twenty For me fingers they are rotting and me bones they are sore I wonder about I'm right down to d**h's door But if I can just live to see seven years' more I will soon bid farewell to Virginny