Woorden: Barbara Dickson. Do Right Woman. The Blacksmith.

Well, a blacksmith courted me, I loved him a-dearly
He played upon his pipes both neat and a-trimly
With his hammer in his hand he strikes so steady
And I love to hear him call all round the smithy

Well, I love to watch my love with his hammer a-swinging
And I love to hear it fall on the anvil a-ringing
Well, the note is loud and clear, the sparks are flying
And my love is handsome then, there's no denying

My love's at the bellows now, the fire's roaring
It is getting mighty hot, the flames were soaring
Nothing can be so gay when the fire is growing
And at night it's as bright as day when my love is blowing

Where has my lover gone with his cheeks like roses?
He has gone across yon fields gathering primroses
Well, that sun doth shine too clear, it'll burn his beauty
I will go and seek my love and do my duty

Strange news has come to town, strange news is carried
Strange news flies up and down that my love is married
Well, I wish him joy though he's my love no longer
But I love my old love still, my blacksmith yonder

Well, a blacksmith courted me, I loved him a-dearly