My [bad word] to me with a rose on her bosom
The moon's dancin' purple all through her black hair
And her lady's in waiting, she stands 'neath my window
And the sun will rise soon on the false and the fair
Singin' tu-lur-a-lei-oh

She tells me [bad word] from my mother the mountain
Her skin fits her tightly and her lips do not lie
She silently slips from her throat a medallion
Slowly she twirls it in front of my eyes
Singin' tu-lur-a-lei-oh

I watch her, I love her, and I long for to touch her
The satin she's wearin' is shimmering blue
And outside my window her ladies are sleeping
My dogs are gone hunting, their howling is through
Singin' tu-lur-a-lei-oh

So I reach for her hand and her eyes turns to poison
And her hair turns to splinters, and her flesh turns to brine
She leaps 'cross the room, she stands in the window
And screams that my first-born will surely be blind
Singin' tu-lur-a-lei-oh

Then she throws herself out to the black of the nightfall
She's parted her lips but she makes not a sound
I fly down the stairway, and [bad word] to the garden
No trace of my [bad word] love is there to be found
Singin' tu-lur-a-lei-oh

So walk these hills lightly, and watch who you're lovin'
By mother the mountain, I swear that it's [bad word] 
And love not a woman with hair black as midnight
And her dress made of satin, all shimmering blue
Singin' tu-lur-a-lei-oh

My [bad word] to me with a rose on her bosom
The moon's dancin' purple all through her black hair
And her lady's in waiting, she stands 'neath my window
And the sun will rise soon on the false and the fair