Henry Clark

Worthy of a friendship lying underneath a stone
He was a proper master, all of a ship his own
For houses and great land, many gold in store
I know he'd spent the whole lot and would again I'm sure

[Chorus]
The blackbirds are singing
At the breaking of the day
When poor old Henry Clark
Left and went away

For twenty years he scarcely slept upon a proper bed
Sleepin' with that faint heart inside a weary head
In the weeks he'd gaze out over Plymouth Bay
To show off all those great girls when the boys are back one day

Chorus

Now his days are over for he was taken ill
Carried to a workhouse all against his will
Being just a mortal he lived a life quite tired
He only lived for one month then his world expired

Chorus