The whistler

I'll buy you six bay mares to put in your stable --- six golden apples bought with my pay. I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune, but I must be gone by the seventh day. So come on, I'm the whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready for the whistler. I whistle along on the seventh day --- whistle along on the seventh day. All kinds of sadness I've left behind me. Many's the day when I have done wrong. But I'll be yours for ever and ever. Climb in the saddle and whistle along. So come on, I'm the whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready for the whistler. I whistle along on the seventh day --- whistle along on the seventh day. Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places. Black are the nights on summer-day sands. We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle. Hold the first grain of love in our hands.