(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