In Edingburgh town where I did dwell A fisher's girl, I loved her well I courted her, for many days She stole from me my heart away There is an inn in that same town There my love sits herself down She sits upon a stranger's knee And tells him what she wouldn't tell me The reason is, I'll tell you why Because he's got more gold than I But gold will melt and silver fly In times of need you'd be as poor as I Wrote a letter, wrote a song Wrote a letter, wrote it long On every line I dropped a tear With every verse (something too Scottish to comprehend) I wrote a letter, wrote a song Wrote a letter, wrote it long On every line I dropped a tear With every verse (still something too Scottish to comprehend) I wish, I wish in vain I wish she was a maid again A maid again, she'll never be 'Till apples grow, on orange tree