Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - Michael Sheen
Come all you fair and tender girls
That flourish in your prime
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair
Let no man steal your thyme
Let no man steal your thyme
For when your thyme it is past and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place while your time was waste
Will all spread over with rue
Will all spread over with rue
The gardener's son, was standing by,
Three flowers he gave to me
The pink, the blue and the violet too
And the red, red rosy tree
And the red, red rosy tree
But I refuse the red rose bush
And gained the willow tree,
That all the world may plainly see
How my love slighted me
How my love slighted me.
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