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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fairport Convention
Fairport Convention
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Trad / Arr. Fairport Convention
Trad / Arr. Fairport Convention
Songwriter
Hutchings Ashley Stephen
Hutchings Ashley Stephen
Composer
Mattacks David James
Mattacks David James
Composer
Nicol Simon John Breckenridge
Nicol Simon John Breckenridge
Composer
Thompson Richard John
Thompson Richard John
Composer
Fairport Convention
Fairport Convention
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Gale
John Gale
Producer

Lyrics

A holiday, a holiday
And the first one of the year
Lord Darnell's wife came into the church
The gospel for to hear
And when the meeting it was done
She cast her eyes about
And there she saw little Matty Groves
Walking in the crowd
"Come home with me, little Matty Groves
Come home with me tonight
Come home with me, little Matty Groves
And sleep with me till light"
"Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home
And sleep with you tonight
By the rings on your fingers I can tell
You are Lord Darnell's wife"
"What if I am Lord Darnell's wife?
Lord Darnell's not at home
Well, he is out in the far cornfields
Bringing the yearlings home"
And a servant who was standing by
And hearing what was said
He swore Lord Darnell he would know
Before the sun would set
And in his hurry to carry the news
He bent his breast and ran
And when he came to the broad millstream
He took off his shoes and swam
Little Matty Groves, he lay down
Took a little sleep
When he awoke, Lord Darnell
Was standing at his feet
Saying, "How do you like my feather bed
And how do you like my sheets?
How do you like my lady
Who lies in your arms asleep?"
"Oh, well I like your feather bed
And well I like your sheets
But better I like your lady gay
Who lies in my arms asleep"
"Well, get up, get up," Lord Darnell cried
"Get up as quick as you can
It'll never be said in fair England
I slew a naked man"
"Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up
I can't get up for my life
For you have two long beaten swords
And I not a pocket knife"
"Well, it's true I have two beaten swords
And they cost me deep in the purse
But you will have the better of them
And I will have the worse
"And you will strike the very first blow
And strike it like a man
I will strike the very next blow
And I'll kill you if I can"
So Matty struck the very first blow
And he hurt Lord Darnell sore
Lord Darnell struck the very next blow
And Matty struck no more
And then Lord Darnell he took his wife
And he sat her on his knee
Saying, "Who do you like the best of us
Matty Groves or me?"
And then up spoke his own dear wife
Never heard to speak so free
"I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips
Than you or your finery"
Lord Darnell he jumped up
And loudly he did bawl
He struck his wife right through the heart
And pinned her against the wall
"A grave, a grave," Lord Darnell cried
"To put these lovers in
But bury my lady at the top
For she was of noble kin"
Written by: Ashley Stephen Hutchings, David Mattacks, Dp, Richard Thompson, Sandy Denny, Simon Nicol
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