Craig Herbertson - Andrew Lammie lyrics

By Mill o Tifty there lived a man In the neighbourhood o' Fyvie He had a lovely daughter fair And they called her bonnie Annie Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter Whose name was Andrew Lammie And he had the art to gain the heart O' Mill o' Tyfty's Annie Lord Fyvie he rode by the door Where lived Tifty's Annie His trumpeter rode him before Even this same Andrew Lammie Her mother cried her to the door Come here to me my Annie Did ye ever see a prettier man Than the trumpeter o' Fyvie Ah nothing she said but sighed fu sore 'Twas alas for bonnie Annie For she durst not own her heart was won By the trumpeter o' Fyvie But at night when a' goes to beds All sleep true sound but Annie Love so oppressed her tender breast And love will wast her body The first time me and my love met Was in the woods o' Fyvie He called me mistress I said no I'm Mill o' Tyfty's Annie My love I go to Edinburgh toon And for a while mon leave ye O' but I'll be dede afore your return In the green kirkyard o' Fyvie Her father struck her wondrous sore And likewise did her mother Her sisters all so did her scorn But woe be to her brother Her brother struck her wondrous sore With cruel strokes and many For he broke her back under the temple stein The temple stein o' Fyvie O' mother dear now make my bed And lay my face to'erd Fyvie For I will lie and I will die For love o Andrew Lammie Her mother she gang make her bed And laid her face toerd Fyvie And its there she lay and its there she died For Love o Andrew Lammie