Fare you well, my honey, fare you well my only true one.. All the birds that were singing are flown, except you alone.. . Going to leave this brokedown palace,.
Gone are the days when the ox fall down. Take up the yoke and plow the fields around. Gone are the days when the ladies said, 'Please. Gentle Jack Jones, won't you come home to me?'.
Fare you well my honey. Fare you well my only true one. All the birds that were singing. Are flown, except you alone. . Going to leave this brokedown palace.