Running to Paradise

Дата: 2015-10-13
Длина: 03:09
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As I came over Windy Gap
They threw a halfpenny into my cap,
For I am running to Paradise
And all that I need do is to wish
And somebody puts his hand in the dish
To throw me a bit of salted fish
And there the king is but as the beggar.

My brother Mourteen is worn out
With skelping his big brawling lout,
And I am running to Paradise
A poor life do what he can,
And though he keep a dog and a gun,
A serving maid and a serving man
And there the king is but as the beggar.

Poor men have grown to be rich men,
And rich men grown to be poor again,
And I am running to Paradise
And many a darling wit's grown dull
That tossed a bare heel when at school,
Now it has filled an old sock full
And there the king is but as the beggar.

The wind is old and still at play
While I must hurry upon my way,
For I am running to Paradise
Yet never have I lit on a friend
To take my fancy like the wind
That nobody can buy or bind
And there the king is but as the beggar.