Washer at the Ford
Argyle Goolsby Lyrics


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Stranger, don't be afraid.
I am in no shape to do you harm
Though frightened you surely are by me
Grant me a moments vended knee.
Dismiss this blood spray on my clothes
I can assure you it's my own.
Though I lay bearing no cruel wound
The witch on the ford surely sealed my doom.

Oh God, I think I'm marked.

Stranger lend me your ear
Hear these last words of a dying man
I testify a great misdeed
My true loves heart I have aggrieved
I broke off for another belle
She conjured up vengeance she conjured up hell
She put that webbed witch there square in my path
Soaking my clothes with the blood of the past.

From round' yonder bend she came closing in
The shadowy washer at the ford
Jacklights were her eyes fortelling demise
The flickering washer at the ford.

Now I know I'm marked.

Stranger could it be we've met someplace before?
You grow resemblance to my lover whom I've recent scorned.
"Yes fallen friend, we did aquaint once on a stroll
Round' yonder bend, now let me wring those stains out
From your soul".

She wailed as she washed. She laughed at the cross
I hastily patterned cross my chest.
My vestment she wrung and ruefully flung these burgundy bloodstains
Cross' my breast.
From round' yonder bend she came closing in. The shadowy washer




At the ford. Jacklights were her eyes fortelling demise.
The flickering washer at the ford.

Overall Meaning

The song "Washer at the Ford" by Argyle Goolsby tells a story of a dying man who confesses to a stranger passing by about a great misdeed he committed. The man explains how he had broken off with his true love for another woman, who conjured up a vengeful witch to seal his doom at the ford. As the man lay dying and marked by the witch's curse, he pleads for a stranger's help to cleanse his soul and alleviate his guilt. The song also describes the haunting presence of the witch, known as the shadowy washer at the ford, as she wails and laughs at the man's fate.


Line by Line Meaning

Stranger, don't be afraid.
I pose no threat to you, despite your fear of me.


I am in no shape to do you harm
I am physically incapable of harming you.


Though frightened you surely are by me
Although I understand that you are afraid of me.


Grant me a moments vended knee.
Please hear me out, even as I kneel before you.


Dismiss this blood spray on my clothes
Do not be alarmed by the blood on my clothing.


I can assure you it's my own.
This blood belongs to me, and me alone.


Though I lay bearing no cruel wound
Despite my seemingly unharmed condition.


The witch on the ford surely sealed my doom.
I am doomed because of the witch on the ford.


Oh God, I think I'm marked.
I fear that I have been cursed or branded.


Stranger lend me your ear
Please listen to my final words.


Hear these last words of a dying man
This may be my final breath, and I have a confession to make.


I testify a great misdeed
I must admit to a grave wrongdoing.


My true loves heart I have aggrieved
I have broken the heart of my beloved.


I broke off for another belle
I abandoned my true love for another woman.


She conjured up vengeance she conjured up hell
The woman I left her for cursed me with vengeance.


She put that webbed witch there square in my path
The woman I left my true love for put a witch in my path.


Soaking my clothes with the blood of the past.
The witch caused me to bleed, staining my clothes with my own blood.


From round' yonder bend she came closing in
Suddenly, the witch appeared around the bend.


The shadowy washer at the ford
The witch was the washer at the ford.


Jacklights were her eyes fortelling demise
Her eyes shone eerily, warning of my impending death.


The flickering washer at the ford.
The witch stood there, flickering in the shadows.


Now I know I'm marked.
I have now come to fully realize that I am cursed or marked for death.


Stranger could it be we've met someplace before?
I sense that I have met you before, stranger.


You grow resemblance to my lover whom I've recent scorned.
You resemble the one I left behind who I recently hurt deeply.


"Yes fallen friend, we did aquaint once on a stroll
You are correct, we did meet before on a casual walk.


Round' yonder bend, now let me wring those stains out
Let me help cleanse you of your past mistakes.


From your soul".
Let me help purge your soul of your burdens and regrets.


She wailed as she washed. She laughed at the cross
The witch wailed and laughed as she cleaned my clothes.


I hastily patterned cross my chest.
I made the sign of the cross upon my chest in desperation.


My vestment she wrung and ruefully flung these burgundy bloodstains
She wrung my clothes and carelessly threw the bloodstained remnants.


Cross' my breast.
Leaving me with a constant reminder of my shameful past.




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Pedro Rodrigues

Stranger, Don't be afraid. I am in no shape to do you harm. Though frightened you surely are by me, grant me a moment's bended knee. Dismiss this bloodspray on my clothes. I can assure you it's my own. Though I lay bearing no cruel wound, the witch on the ford surely sealed my doom.
Oh God, I think I'm marked.
II. Stranger, lend me your ear. Hear these last words of a dying man. I testify a great misdeed. My true love's heart I have aggrieved. I broke off for another belle. She conjured up vengeance she conjured up Hell. She put that webbed witch there square in my path. Soaking my clothes in the blood of the past.
From round' yonder bend she came closing in. The shadowy Washer at the Ford. Jacklights in her eyes fortelling demise. The flickering Washer at the Ford.
Now I know I'm marked.
III. Stranger, could it be we've met some place before? You bear resemblance to my lover whom I've recent scorned. Yes fallen friend, we did aquaint once on a stroll round' yonder bend. Now, let me wring those stains out from your soul.
She wailed as she washed. She laughed at the cross I hastily patterned cross' my chest. My vestment she wrung and ruefully flung these burgundy bloodstains cross' my breast. From round' yonder bend she came closing in. The shadowy Washer at the Ford. Jacklights were her eyes foretelling demise. The flickering Washer at the Ford

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