We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?

Evening by evening
Among the Brookside rushes,
Laura bow'd her head to hear,
Lizzie veil'd her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and fingertips.
"lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
"We must not look at Goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
who knows upon the soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the Goblins
Hobbling down the glen

Good folk, I have no coin,
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusy heather.

Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
'Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy

I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let our love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home

You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul