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Seth Lakeman
Seth Lakeman


Background information
Born March 26, 1977
Born place Buckland Monachorum, near Yelverton, Devon, UK
Origin Dartmoor, Devon, England
Genre(s) Folk
Years active 1994—present
Label(s) Relentless Records
Associated acts Cara Dillon
Sam Lakeman
Equation
The Lakeman Brothers
Steve Knightley
Jenna Witts



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  S  →  Seth Lakeman  →  Albums  →  Kitty Jay

Seth Lakeman Album


Kitty Jay (2004)
2004
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Cape Clear (instrumental)
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. . .


All good people I pray you attend
For poor John Lomas his life at an end
He was condemned to die.

He was a great master, so very kind,
But his fair mistress had evil in her mind
He was condemned to die.

Willingly I took his place
With my fair love
Willingly I stole his face
and soaked it in blood.
It was the mistress and the murder for love.

This fair mistress found him asleep.
It's time to kill him then my heart you can keep,
He was condemned to die.

Three times I struck him over his head.
It was my first murder, a blood soaken bed,
He was condemned to die.

Chorus

Into my room then I did return,
The crime committed, my conscience it did burn,
I was condemned to die.

In a dark Jailhouse I would remain,
For poor John Lomas now it is my name.
I am condemned to die.

Chorus

. . .


Down on the moor in a green old field,
There lies a knight slain under his shield,
His hounds they lie down at his feet,
So well they can their master keep.

The bold knight above,
If he see that angel with her love
The bold knight above,
If he could see that angel with her love.

Down on the moor a fallow girl
as great with young for all the world.
She lifted up his bloody head,
and kissed his wounds that were so red.

Chorus

She picked him up upon her back,
and carried him no hands attached.
She buried him before their prime,
Then she was dead herself at even time,

Chorus

. . .


I'll sing you a song how first we began,
Our toils and our troubles our plot and our plan.
We left our fair country, our friends and our homes,
Across to the deserts wild and the mountains to roll.

We travelled three weeks 'til we came to the platt.
Set up our camp ahead of the pack,
In just a moment low we heard a faint yell,
Five hundred cavalry they were riding from hell.

We fight for favour,
we will fight for pride,
And oh we will fight for favour,
We will fight 'til they die.

They made a bold dash came near to our train,
Bullets fell around like showers of rain,
With long rifles at hand we fed them hot lead
'Til many a brave warrior around us lay dead,

Chorus

We travel by day but guard in the night,
Across all those mountains so high in their might,
Now in a green valley we live beside a clear old stream,
Our journey now ended in the land of our dreams,

Chorus

. . .


Poor Kitty Jay such a beauty cast away,
This silent prayer it should paint some peace
on her grave,
Something broke her sleep.

Poor Kitty Jay such a beauty thrown away,
So young and fair now she's turned to dust,
and clay,
Terror broke her sleep.

Never guessed unto her cold end,
Call the Devil her only friend,
Never guessed it with his bare hands,
Call the Devil the mark of man.

. . .


Farewell my love I think not you less
My heart still beats for thee,
These empty arms still for your fair rest
Those eyes to gaze at me.

Don't pity me for she'll not stay,
She scorned my heart and fades away,
Farewell my love for all we've done,
By the setting of the sun.

Farewell my love of yesteryears,
We roll upon the tide
Tomorrows' day should lead the way
and life begins tonight.

Don't pity me for I'm not done
She scorned my heart with the setting sun,
Farewell my love for all I've got,
I know I'll see you still...

. . .


For Seven long years now
Down that tunnel and shaft
Working out my season.
Oh how it better not last,
By twenty my hearing,
Oh had suffered those days,
Blood upon the copper,
Oh how I fade away.

Working in the darkness day by day,
With nothin' but the dreams to light my way.

Nothin' but a short life,
Down that tunnel and shaft,
Gotta breath the air in,
Oh how I suffocate fast,
For profits and taxes,
Oh no money to save,
Blood upon the copper,
Oh how I fade away

Chorus

. . .


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.

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,
But being just a mortal he lived a life quite tired,
He only lived for one month then his world expired.

Chorus

. . .


Make us ready boys all with wonder born,
We'll guide this fair ship and sail towards the morn,
Come on all alas, now here's the master dear,
I fear this deadly storm is coming to us near.

We sailed from Plymouth Sound in a week or three,
with not that far to go boys, some canons to retrieve.
The night it grew much darker and the wind it came in strong,
And it grew upon us lads and there was nothing to be done.

The waves grew higher and broke upon our ship,
Then poor old master's taken with nothing left to grip,
Drop the anchor downwards and throw him out a line,
Poor old master's overboard he be swallowed by the tide.

So hear my warning that I give to you,
Be careful when your sailing with that lucky few,
Tie up every deck hand tightly 'til the morn,
And well go together boys in the belly of the storm.
Don't go sailing out with me, I fear your soul be lost at sea.

. . .

Cape Clear

[No lyrics]

. . .


It was Monday morning in heavy rain,
When Josie went from our house, never back again,
Out beyond the hillside where the cattle stand,
With her recent lover holding her right hand.

They both went out together in the Monday mist,
She never saw it coming, waiting at his wrist,
He struck her swiftly and she fell right down,
Flowers grew around her a body never found.

Whenever you're walking out in the snow,
Think of poor Josie all on her own,
Wherever those flowers stand out unknown,
You'll be steppin' on her gravestone.

So tell me where is Josie and where's she flown,
You both went out together you've come back alone,
You sit so sadly with a face so cold,
You're no more paler though than the life you stole.

Chorus

. . .


The streams of lovely Nancy are divided in three parts,
Where young men and maidens meet their long sweethearts,
It is drinking of good liquor that has caused my heart to sing,
And the noise in yonder village made the rocks ring.

At the bottom of this mountain runs a river clear,
A ship from the Indes did once anchor here,
With her red flags a'flying and the beating of her drum,
With sweet instruments of music and the firing of her gun.

At the bottom of this mountain where the birds do fly,
There is one amoungst them that flies so very high,
If I had her in my arms near the diamond's cold black land,
How soon I'd secure her by the kindness of my hands.

So come all you little streamers that walk the meadows gay,
Go write unto your love wherever she may lay,
With her rosy lips entice me and her tongue she tells me no
But the angels might direct us wherever we should go.

. . .


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