Monday Morning

To hear the birds whistle the nightingales sing I met a fair maiden who sweetly did sing I'm going to be married next Monday morning. How old are you my fair young maid, Here in this valley this valley so green How old are you my fair young maid, I'm goin' to be sixteen next Monday mornin'. Well sixteen years old, that's too young for to marry So take my advice, five years longer to tarry For marriage brings troubles and sorrows begin So put off your wedding for Monday mornin'. You talk like a mad man, a man with no skill Two years I've been waiting against my own will Now I'm determined to have my own way And I'm going to be married next Monday mornin' And next Monday mornin' the bells they will ring And my true love will buy me a gay gold ring Also he'll buy me a new pretty gown To wear at my wedding next Monday mornin' Next Monday night when I go to my bed And I turn round to the man that I've wed Around his middle my two arms I will fling, And I wish to my soul it was Monday mornin'.