It was where the Roserun wends
Past the point of Pinepudding bend
Sing bree yark, howl bree yark
beneath a dome of earthy mould
there'd be treasure, we were told
Sing bree yark, cry bree yark
So with torch, and with sword
we took our band a'neith the sward
Sing bree yark, chant bree yark
there in torchy gloom we saw
loverly pictures on the wall
Sing bree yark, call bree yark
in that dark benieth the mold,
i fear we found but little gold