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Nic Jones
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The Wanton Seed
Oh, as I walked out one morning fair
To view the fields and to take the air,
Spied a young maid making her complaint;
All that she wanted was the chiefest grain, the chiefest grain,
All she wanted was the chiefest grain.
I stepped up to this fair young maid
And unto her these words I said:
I said, 'My young maid, do you stand in need
Of the grain that's called the wanton seed, oh, the wanton seed,
A grain that's called the wanton seed.'
'Oh yes, kind sir, I stand in need,
Of a grain that's called the wanton seed.
If you are the man that can do the deed,
Come and sow my meadow with the wanton seed, the wanton seed,
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Come and sow my meadow with the wanton seed.'
So I sowed high and I sowed low
And it's under her apron the seed did grow.
Grew up so neatly without any weed,
She always commended my wanton seed, oh, my wanton seed,
She always commended my wanton seed.
Now when the forty long weeks they were over and past
She came back to me with a slender waist.
She came back to me and how she did complain,
She wanted some more of my chiefest grain, oh, my chiefest grain,
she wanted some more of my chiefest grain.
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