For more than seven years the king he stayed in Tay, the land of SpainAnd seven years true Thomas was his doctor's chamberlainWhat telleth you, my doctor Janet? You look so pale and wornEither been sick and very, very sick Or else healing with your manOr else healing with your manThere is no thread around my head Nor do I love a manBut it is funny a lying, lying bide in a wall In Tay, the land of SpainYouShe'll cast out yer bonnie brandon And lay it on AasteinAnd I'll tell ye my dear Janet Is well that ye loved a manShe's cast out her bonnie brandonAnd laid it on Aastein And I'll tell ye my dear Janet Is well that ye loved a manHer belly it was big, her t'was size high, Her colour it was quite gale.Oh, is it to a man and a man who might, Or is it till a man has meal?Oh, it is to Thomas a wine's body, That can a langer lend.Oh, where are all our friends?All my wall-work men, That I pay meat and fee,That will give our Thomas a wine's body, And bring him here to me,I hang it he shall be.She's turned her right and thrown the boot, The tears blind at her ear,If he day only yell to true Thomas, Ye'll ne'er I get gado me.When Thomas came before the king, He glanced like the fire,His hair was like the thread so galled, His eyes like crystal clear.It was no wonder my daughter Janet,Although ye loot this man, If he were a woman as he is a man,My bad fellow he would be, My bad fellow he would be.Oh, will ye marry my daughter Janet?The truth's in your right hand, Ye'll ee some o' my gowd and some o' my gear,And the twelfth part o' my land.It's I will marry your daughter Janet, The truth's in my right hand,I'll ee ne'er your gowd and I'll ne'er your gear,I've enough in my land.But I will marry your daughter Janet, With thirty ploughs and three,And four-and-twenty bonny-breeze mills, All on a water-o'-dee,All on a water-o'-dee.All on a water-o'-dee.All on a water-o'-dee.