As I walked out over London Bridge
One misty morning early
I overheard a fair, pretty maid
Was lamenting for her Geordie

Oh my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
Tis not the chain of many
He was born of king's royal breed
And lost to a virtuous lady

Go bridle me my milk white steed
Go bridle me my pony
I will ride to London's court
And to plead for the life of Geordie

Oh my Geordie never stole nor cow nor calf
He never hurted any
Stole sixteen of the King's royal deer
And he sold them in Boeny

Two pretty babies have I borne
The third lies in my body
I'd freely part with them every one 
If you'd spare the life of Geordie

The judge looked over his left shoulder
He said, Fair maid, I'm sorry
Said, Fair maid, you must be gone
For I cannot pardon Geordie

Oh my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain
Tis not the chain of many
Stole sixteen of the King's royal deer
And he sold them in Boeny