作词：Traditional

Oh, in the merry month of May
When green buds they were swellin'
Young Tommy Jones on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen

He sent his men unto her then
To the place where she was dwellin'
'You must come to my master, dear
If your name be Barbara Allen'

So slowly, slowly she came up
And slowly she came at him
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But all she said when she came there
'Young man, I think you're dyin'''

'If on your death bed you do lie
What needs a tale you're tellin'
I cannot keep you from yourself
Farewell', said Barbara Allen

He turned his face unto the wall
As deadly pangs he fell in
Farewell, farewell, farewell to all
Farewell to Barbara Allen