As I walked out over London Bridge
One misty morning early
I overheard a fair pretty maid
Was lamenting for her Geordie
Ah, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
′Tis not the chain of many
He was born of king's royal breed
And lost to a virtuous lady
Go bridle me my milk-white steed
Go bridle me my pony
I will ride to London′s court
To plead for the life of Geordie
Ah, my Geordie never stole nor cow nor calf
He never hurted any
Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer
And he sold them in Bohenny
Two pretty babies have I borne
The third lies in my body
I'd freely part with them every one
If you′d spare the life of Geordie
The judge looked over his left shoulder
He said, "Fair maid, I′m sorry"
Said, "Fair maid, you must be gone
For I cannot pardon Geordie"
Ah, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
'Tis not the chain of many
Stole sixteen of the king′s royal deer
And he sold them in Bohenny
Writer(s): Shirley Elizabeth Collins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
