Nottamun Town - Bert Jansch

In fair Nottamun town, not a soul would look up

Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down

Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down

To show me the way to fair Nottamun town

I rode a gray horse, a mule roany mare

Gray mane and gray tail, a green stripe down her back

Gray mane and gray tail, a green stripe down her back

There wasn’t a hair on her be-what was coal black

She stood so still, she threw me to the dirt

She tore -a my hide and she bruised my shirt

From saddle to stirrup I mounted again

And on my ten toes I rode over the plain

Met the king and the queen and a company more

A-riding behind and a-marching before

Came a stark-naked drummer, a-beating a drum

With his heels in his bosom come marching along

They laughed and they smiled, not a soul did look gay

They talked all the while, not a word they did say

I bought me a quart to drive gladness away

And to stifle the dust for it rained the whole day

Sat down on a hard, hot cold frozen stone

Ten thousand stood round me and yet I’s alone

Took my hat in my hand for to keep my head warm

Ten thousand got drowned that never was born