Come all you fair and tender girls
That flourish in your prime,
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair
Let no man steal your thyme,
Let no man steal your thyme.
For when your thyme it is past and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place where your thyme was waste
Will all spread o'er with rue, rue,
Will all spread o'er with rue.
The gardener's son was standing by,
Three flowers he gave to me.
The pink, the blue and the violet too
And the red, red rosy tree, tree,
And the red, red rosy tree.
But I refused the red rose bush
And gained the willow tree,
That all the world may plainly see
How my love slighted me,
How my love slighted me.
Matthias, Matthias...why art thou Matthias? (GIVE ME THIS MOVIE NOW AND NO ONE WILL GET HURT)