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2 I can't come in, I won't come in And stay this night with thee, For I have a wife in old Scotchee This night a-looking for me.
3 She did have a little penknife, It was both keen and sharp. She gave him a deathlike blow And pierced him through the heart.
4 She picked him up all in her arms, Being very active and strong,
And she throwed him into an old dry well About sixty feet.
5 One day she was sitting in her father's parlour door, Thinking of no harm.
She saw a bird and a pretty little bird All among the leaves so green.
6 Come down, come down, my pretty little bird And parley on my knee.
I'm afeard you'd rob me of my life Like you did the poor Scotchee.
7 I wish I had my bow and arrow, My arrow and my string;
I'd shoot you through your tender little heart, For you never no more could sing.