Fairport Convention

Farewell, farewell
To you who would hear
You lonely travellers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road doth call
And will you never return to see
Your bruised and beaten sons?
Oh, I would
I would if welcome I were
For they loathe me every one
And will you never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be
And can you never swear a year
To any one of we
No I will never cut the cloth
Nor drink the light to thee
But I'll swear a year
To one who lies alongside of me
Farewell, farewell
To you who would hear
You lonely travellers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road doth call