The Night My Father Got Me His Mind Was Not On Me; He Did Not Plague His Fancy To Muse If I Should Be The Son You See. The Day My Mother Bore Me She Was A Fool And Glad, For All The Pain I Cost Her, That She Had Borne The Lad That Borne She Had. My Mother And My Father Out Of The Light They Lie; The Warrant Would Not Find Them, And Here 'Tis Only I Shall Hang So High. Oh Let Not Man Remember The Soul That God Forgot, But Fetch The County Kerchief And Noose Me In The Knot, And I Will Rot. For So The Game Is Ended That Should Not Have Begun. My Father And My Mother They Had A Likely Son, And I Have None.