As I walked out over London town
One misty morning early
I overheard a fair pretty maid
Was lamenting for her Geordie
Oh, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
'Tis not the chain of many
He was born of king's royal breed
And lost to a virtuous lady
Go bridle me my milk white steed
Go bridle me my pony
I will ride to London's court
To plead for the life of Geordie
Two pretty babies have I born
The third lies in my body
I'd freely part with them every one
If you'd spare the life of Geordie
The judge looked over his left shoulder
He said fair maid I'm sorry
He said fair maid you must be gone
For I cannot pardon Geordie
Oh, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
'Tis not the chain of many
He was born of king's royal breed
And lost to a virtuous lady
Oh, my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
'Tis not the chain of many
Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer
And he sold them
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