Oh, in the merry month of May When green buds they were swellin' Young Tommy Jones on his death bed lay For love of Barbara Allen He sent his men unto her then To the place where she was dwellin' "You must come to my master, dear If your name be Barbara Allen" So slowly, slowly she came up And slowly she came at him But all she said when she came there "Young man, I think you're dyin[""If on your death bed you do lieWhat needs a tale you're tellin'I cannot keep you from yourselfFarewell", said Barbara AllenHe turned his face unto the wallAs deadly pangs he fell inFarewell, farewell, farewell to allFarewell to Barbara Allen]