The first recording session broke down—not due to technical error, but because of a childhood grief that music couldn’t mend.
Sometimes, the most powerful part of a song is the note that was never sung.
For Paul Simon, “Scarborough Fair” wasn’t just a haunting folk tune—it was a doorway to a wound that never healed.
The Iconic Arrangement—and a Silence No One Noticed
In 1966, Simon & Garfunkel’s version of “Scarborough Fair / Canticle” captivated listeners with its medieval flair and interwoven melodies.
But few knew that the original recording session was unexpectedly paused.
Art Garfunkel later shared that during the intense second half of the song—especially the verse beginning “Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather…”—Paul Simon suddenly went silent. Not from error. But from tears.
A Brother Lost—and a Voice That Couldn’t Continue
As a boy, Paul was deeply attached to his older brother—the one who first taught him guitar.
That brother tragically drowned in a lake when Paul was just 12. The loss left an unspoken shadow over his early life and artistry.
During that verse, something cracked. Paul couldn’t sing on.
They halted the session, and later, Art Garfunkel recorded the line instead.
The Note He Never Sang
Paul never explained it in public. But close friends said that for once, his silence was the performance.
Not a mistake. Not avoidance. Just pure, unfiltered emotion.
👉 Listen to “Scarborough Fair / Canticle” again—
and when the vocals drop out… that may be where a boy said goodbye.
Lyrics
are you going to scarborough fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
(a hill in the deep forest green)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown)
Without no seams nor needle work,
(blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain)
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
(sleeps unaware of the clarion call)
Tell her to find me an acre of land,
(on the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(washes the grave with silvery tears)
Between the salt water and the sea strand,
(a soldier cleans and polishes a gun)
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
(sleeps unaware of the clarion call)
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather,
(war bellows blazing in scarlet battalions)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(general order their soldiers to kill)
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
(and to fight for a cause they’ve long ago forgotten)
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Are you going to scarborough fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.