Testo di Blessed Wild Apple Girl

Gypsy Girl, oh twisty pearl Sat upon the stoney pale mare Beltane Eve, by the fires you grieve With your deep Babylonian hair (chorus) Blessed Wild Apple Girl move along now Blessed Wild Apple Girl move along now Blessed Wild Apple Girl Gypsy girl, oh twisty girl Your hands are dangled with flowers Tangled torn, so stately born For a throne in the (hill) halls of Ireland (chorus) Fools have said the hills are dead But her nose is a rose of the Shee A silver sword by an ancient ford Was my gift from this child of the trees (chorus to end)