Hawthorne The Felice Brothers

In the graveyard, the hawthorn grows
And that's where I want to be
Don't you follow me

Through the hawthorn, the cold wind blows
Freely and wild
Like a human child

Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any wine?
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any mind?
Wine? Mind? Have you got any?

In the graveyard, the senator sleeps
And he dreams of golden heights
And devilish delights

In his casket, he dines on snails
Centipedes and snails
The tongues of nightingales

Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any tea?
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any for me?
Baah, baah, black sheep, have you any home?
Yes sir, yes sir, where the angels roam
Home, my home