Eli the barrow boy, of the old town
Sells coal and marigolds and he cries out
All down the day
Below the tamaracks he is crying
Corn cobs and candlewax for the buying
All down the day
Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe
Made of gold and silk Arabian thread
But she is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove
And still I push my barrow all the day
Still I push my barrow all the day
Eli the barrow boy, when they found him
Dressed all in corduroy, he had drowned in
The river down the way
They laid his body down in a churchyard
But still when the moon is out, with his pushcart
He calls down the day
Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown
Made of gold and silk Arabian thread
But I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground
And still I push my barrow all the day
Still I push my barrow all the day
I must push my barrow all the day
I must push my barrow all the day
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