Must I be bound while you go free?
Must I love one who can’t love me?
Must I enact such a childish part
to love a man who will break my heart?

The first thing that my love gave me,
It was a cap all lined with lead.
The longer that I wore that cap
It grew the heavier on my head.

He gave me a mantle for to wear
All lined with grief and stitched with care.
The drink you gave me, it was bitter gall,
And the wounds you gave to me were worse of all.

Must I be bound?
Must I be bound?
Must I be bound?
Must I?

The last thing that my love gave me,
It was a belt with colours three.
The first was shame and the next was sorrow,
And the last: sweet misery.

I may forever hold a guilt that’s his.
For days he caused great wounds and took my choice,
And though in past my body he did bind,
I will not let him take my voice.

Must I be bound?
Must I be bound?
Must I, must I?
Must I be bound?
Must I be bound?

Must I be bound, while you go free?