Not available.

Not available.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair.
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt.
(On the side of a hill in the deep forest green)
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
(Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown)
Without no seams nor needle work,
(Blankets and bed clothes the child of the mountain.)
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.)

Tell her to find me an acre of land.
(On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves.)
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. 
(Washes the grave with silver tears.)
Between the salt water and the sea strand.
(A soldier cleans and polishes a gun.)
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.)

Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather.
(War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions.)
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
(Generals order their soldiers to kill.)
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
(And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten)
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair.
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine