Experience the haunting legend of "Clerk Saunders" reimagined as an emotional folk-rock ballad with gothic and darkwave influences. Powerful vocals, dynamic drums, and evocative storytelling bring this Scottish ghost story to life. Perfect for fans of atmospheric folk, gothic rock, and modern ballads. Listen now and immerse yourself in a cinematic journey of love, loss, and the supernatural.Clerk Saunders (Modern English Version)
When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
I know all men to bed were gone,
Clerk Saunders came to Margaret’s window,
With many a sad sigh and groan.
"Are you sleeping, Margaret," he says,
"Or are you waking, presently?
Give me my faith and troth again,
I know, true love, I gave to thee."
"Your faith and troth you’ll never get,
Nor our true love shall never part,
Till you come with me in my bower,
And kiss me both cheek and chin."
"My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,
It has the smell now of the ground;
And if I kiss your comely mouth,
Your life-days will not be long.
"Cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf,
I know the wild fowl bodes day;
Give me my faith and troth again,
And let me fare me on my way."
"Your faith and troth you shall not get,
Nor our true love shall never part,
Till you tell me what comes of women
I know that die in strong travailing."
"Their beds are made in the heavens high,
Down at the foot of our good Lord’s knee,
Well set about with gillyflowers,
I know, sweet company for to see.
"Oh, cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf,
I know the wild fowl bodes day;
The psalms of Heaven will be sung,
And ere now I’ll be missed away."
Up she has taken a bright long wand,
And she has struck her troth thereon;
She has given it him out at the shot-window,
With many a sad sigh and heavy groan.
"I thank you, Margaret, I thank you, Margaret,
And I thank you heartily;
If ever the dead come for the quick,
Be sure, Margaret, I'll come again for thee."
It’s hose and shoes and gown alone
She climbed the wall and followed him,
Until she came to a green forest,
On this she lost the sight of him.
"Is there any room at your head, Saunders?
Is there any room at your feet?
Or any room at your two sides?
Where fain, fain would I sleep."
"There is no room at my head, Margaret,
There is no room at my feet;
There is room at my two sides,
For ladies for to sleep.
"Cold meal is my covering over,
And my winding sheet;
My bed it is full low, I say,
Down among the hungry worms I sleep.
"Cold meal is my covering over,
And my winding sheet;
The dew, it falls no sooner down
Than always it is full wet."
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