High Germany - Luke Kelly

Oh Polly, love, oh Polly, the rout has now begun

And we must go a-marching at the beating of the drum

Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me

I’ll take you to the war, me love, in High Germany

Oh Willy, love, oh Willy, come list' what I do say

My feet they are so tender, I cannot march away

And besides, my dearest Willy, I am with child by thee

Not fitted for the war, me love, in High Germany

I’ll buy for you a horse, me love, and on it you shall ride

And all my delight shall be in, riding by your side

We’ll stop at every alehouse and drink when we are dry

We’ll be true to one another, get married bye and bye

Oh, cursed be them cruel wars that ever they should rise

And out of merry England press many a man likewise

They pressed my true love from me, likewise my brothers three

And sent them to the wars, me love, in High Germany

Me friends I do not value nor me foes I do not fear

Now me love has left me, I wander far and near

And when me baby it is born and smiling on me knee

I’ll think of lovely Willy in High Germany

Oh Polly, love, oh Polly, the rout has now begun

And we must go a-marching at the beating of the drum

Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me

I’ll take you to the war, me love, in High Germany