The Market Song - faun

On a fine evening fair in the month of april

Over the hill came the sun with a smile

And the folks they were throngin' the roads everywhere

Makin' haste to be in at the Copshawholme Fair

I’ve seen 'em a-comin' from mountains and glens

Those rosy-faced lasses and strappin' young men

With a joy in their heart and unburdened o' care

A-meetin' old friends at the Copshawholme Fair

Whoever joined our gathering

And danced under the garlands green

Will never be the same again

Now rest your head and stay a while

And dwell with us the summer’s night

And you’ll never be the same again

There are lads for the lasses, there’s toys for the bairns

Jugglers and tumblers and folks with no arms

There’s a ballad-singer here and a fiddler there

Nut-men and spice-men at Copshawholme Fair

There are peddlers and potters and gingerbread stands

Peepshows and popping-darts and green caravans

There’s fruit from all nations exhibited there

With kale plants from Orange at Copshawholme Fair

Whoever joined our gathering

And danced under the garlands green

Will never be the same again

Now rest your head and stay a while

And dwell with us the summer’s night

And you’ll never be the same again

You came a long way, you traveled for so long

Now rest your head before the summer’s gone

Meet us in the sunny fields and meet us in the greenwood deep

And step in our faerie ring 'cause you’ll never ever ever be the same again

When the hiring is over, off they all sprang

Into the ballroom for to join in the throng

And «I Never Will Lie With My Mammy Nae Mair»

The fiddles play briskly at Copshawholme Fair