Through Moorfields Ewan MacColl

[Verse 1]
It was through Moorfields I wandered by meself all alone;
I heard a maid in Bedlam a-making a sad moan
She was wringing of her tender hands, and tearing of her hair
Crying, “Oh! cruel parents! you have proved to me severe!

[Verse 2]
“You have taken my own true love and to sea made him go
Pressed all on a man-of-war which caused my overthrow
It made me sorely to lament and tarned my poor brain.”
Crying, “Oh! Shall I ever see my own true love again?”

[Verse 3]
It was early the next morning this young sailor came on shore
He walked and he talked down alongside by Bedlam door
And be gave unto the porter a broad piece of gold
Saying, “Bring that young girl to me, she's the joy of my soul.”

[Verse 4]
Then he took her from her straw bed and set her on his knee
Saying, “I'm that same young man that your parents pressed to sea
But now my cares are gone and all my sorrows they are fled
Then adieu unto these chains and this cold straw bed.”