MONDAY MORNING
Peter Paul and Mary

Early one morning, one morning in Spring

To hear the birds whistle the nightingales sing

I met a fair maiden who sweetly did sing:

"I'm goin' to be married next Monday morning"

How old are you, my fair young maid?

Here in this valley, this valley so green

How old are you, my fair young maid?

"I'm going to be sixteen next Monday morning"

Well, sixteen years old, that's too young for to marry

So take my advice five years longer to tarry

For marriage brings troulbes and sorrows begin,

So put-off your wedding for Monday morning

You talk like mad man, a man with no skill

Five years I've been waiting against my own will

But now I'm determined to have my own way

And I'm going to be married next Monday morning

Next Monday morning the bells they will ring

My true love will buy me a gay golden ring

Also he'll buy me a new pretty grown

To wear at my wedding next Monday morning

Next Monday night when I go to my bed

And I turn round to the man that I've wed

Around his middle my two arms I will fling

And I wish to my soul it was Monday morning.