(partial lyrics)



To a lane called Corrie Wynd there came a peddler

With his pack and all he called gestedler

And in his bag he carried many treasures



Dear old Benjamin Day, I still can hear you say

Strange things for sale, straight from a fairy tale



He'd open up his bag, and take out what he had

An amethyst ring, a puppet on a string

A piece of crystal glass, a thing that's meant to last.



I still recall the stories he would tell us....