I’ll sing a ballad to the one I love,a love ballad about his vineyard:The one I love had a vineyard,a fine, well-placed vineyard.He hoed the soil and pulled the weeds,and planted the very best vines.He built a lookout, built a winepress,a vineyard to be proud of.He looked for a vintage yield of grapes,but for all his pains he got junk grapes.