Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
           A hill in the deep forest green
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
           Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown
Without no seams nor needle work,
           Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
           Sleeps unaware of the clarion call

Tell her to find me an acre of land,
           On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
           Washes the grave with silvery tears
Between the salt water and the sea strand,
           A soldier cleans and polishes a gun
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
           Sleeps unaware of the clarion call

Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather,
           War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
           Generals order their soldiers to kill
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
           And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.