The Butcher Boy traditional ballad from England* In Moore Street where I did dwell A butcher boy, I loved right well He courted me, my life away And now with me, he will not stay Oh, I wish, I wish, I wish in vain I wish I was a maid again A maid again I ne'er will be 'Till aplles grow on an ivy tree She went upstairs to go to bed And calling to her mother said: Bring me a chair 'till I sit down And a pen and ink 'till I write down Oh, I wish, I wish, I wish in vain I wish I was a maid again A maid again I ne'er will be 'Till aplles grow on an ivy tree He went upstairs and the door he broke He found her hanging from a rope He took his knife and he cut her down And in her pocket, these words he found Oh, dig my grave large, wide and deep Lay a marble stone at my head and feet And in the center a turtle dove So the world might know, that I died of love Oh, I wish, I wish, I wish in vain I wish I was a maid again A maid again I ne'er will be 'Till aplles grow on an ivy tree *Since the song is adapted by many singers in Ireland as well as in the USA, the place of the story has often changed, also other details in the song have changed. Here I edited the lyrics of a version I recorded in Midleton, a little town in Ireland (East of Cork) in July 2015   alles-uke.de