Bruton Town | Folk‑Country Murder Ballad

Описание: A haunting English folk murder ballad with a folk rock pulse.

[lyrics]

Bruton Town
In Bruton town there lived a farmer,
with two grown sons and a daughter dear.

One brother kept his thoughts from others,
but to his brother he confessed:
“I think our hired man woos our sister;
I think the two of them mean to wed.
I’ll stop their meetings and their courting—
I’ll see him put to death instead.”

They set a day to go out hunting
where bramble, thorn, and briar grow,
and there they slew the young man cruelly
and tossed him in the tangled thicket below.

“Come home, come in, my own two brothers—
our serving man, is he not near?”
“We left him out where we were hunting;
we left him where no one will find him, dear.”

As she lay sleeping on her pillow,
she thought her true love stood close by;
she dreamed she saw him there beside her,
his coat all stained with blood-red dye.

“Don’t mourn for me, my dearest darling,
don’t waste your heart in grief and pine;
for your two brothers killed me wickedly—
and in that place you’ll find me lying.

“Rise early, love, tomorrow morning,
go straight to that thicket that you know;
there you will find my body resting
where thorn and briar tangle and grow.”

She rose at dawn the very next day,
and to the garden thicket went,
and there she found her own true lover,
all soaked and dark with blood he’d spent.

She drew a handkerchief from her pocket
and wiped his eyes, though sight was gone:
“For you were mine—my true beloved,
my faithful love to lean upon.”

Three days and nights she stayed beside him,
and sorrow filled her heart with woe,
until sharp hunger overcame her—
and home at last she had to go.