Bob Dylan
Blackjack Davey
Blackjack Davey come a-ridin' by
Singin' so sweet and gaily
Made the green woods around him ring
To charm the heart of a lady
To charm the heart of a lady

How old are you my pretty little miss
How old are you my honey
If I don't die from the morn above
I'll be sixteen next Sunday
I'll be sixteen next Sunday

For I forsake my house and land
And I forsake my baby
And I forsake my new wed lord
To stay with the Blackjack Davey
To stay with the Blackjack Davey

She pulled off her high heel shoes
They were made of Spanish leather
She pulled on her low heel shoes
And they both rode off together
They both rode off together

Last night I slept in a warm feather bed
Between my husband and baby
Tonight I lay on the cold cold ground
Beside that Blackjack Davey
Beside that Blackjack Davey