The Bad Squire Lyrics
| Song | The Bad Squire |
| Artist | Chumbawamba |
| Album | English Rebel Songs 1381-1984 |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| [00:00.000] | 作曲 : Traditional |
| [00:08.44] | The merry brown hares came a-leaping |
| [00:12.96] | Over the crest of the hill |
| [00:17.08] | Where the clover and corn lay a-sleeping |
| [00:21.73] | Under the moonlight so still |
| [00:26.02] | Leaping so late and so early |
| [00:30.12] | 'Till under their bite and their tread |
| [00:34.48] | The swedes and the wheat and the barley |
| [00:38.58] | Lay cankered and trampled and dead |
| [00:45.33] | A poacher's poor widow sat sighing |
| [00:49.55] | On the side of the moss-patterned bank |
| [00:53.93] | Where under the gloom of the fir-woods |
| [00:58.26] | One acre of ground laying rank |
| [01:02.51] | She watched over barely grown clover |
| [01:06.66] | Where rabbit or hare never ran |
| [01:11.29] | For the ground that it all covered over |
| [01:15.56] | Hid the blood of a good murdered man |
| [01:22.35] | She thought of the shaded plantation |
| [01:26.49] | And the hares and her husband's own blood |
| [01:30.82] | And the voice of her own indignation |
| [01:35.08] | Rose up to the throne of her God |
| [01:39.36] | There's blood on your new foreign shrubs, Squire |
| [01:43.75] | There's blood on your pointer's cold feet |
| [01:48.07] | There's blood on the game that you sell Squire |
| [01:52.38] | And there's blood on the game that you eat |
| [01:58.24] | You have sold out the labouring man, Squire |
| [02:03.35] | Both body and soul for to shame |
| [02:07.72] | To pay for your seat in the House, Squire |
| [02:11.88] | And to pay for the feed of your game |
| [02:16.24] | You made him a poacher yourself, Squire |
| [02:20.49] | When you'd give not the work nor the meat |
| [02:25.04] | And your barley-fed hares robbed the garden |
| [02:29.25] | At our starving poor little one's feet |
| [02:35.24] | When packed into one tiny chamber |
| [02:40.16] | Man, mother and little ones lay |
| [02:44.38] | While the rain pattered in on our bride bed |
| [02:48.83] | And the walls barely held out the day |
| [02:53.15] | When we lay in the heat of the fever |
| [02:57.48] | On the mud and the clay of the floor |
| [03:01.76] | 'Till you parted us all for three months, Squire |
| [03:06.14] | And we knocked at the working house door |
| [03:12.76] | So to kennels and liveried varlets |
| [03:16.85] | Where you starved your own daughter of bread |
| [03:21.46] | And worn out with liquor and ******s |
| [03:25.55] | See your heirs at your feet lying dead |
| [03:29.98] | When you follow them into your heaven |
| [03:34.35] | And your soul rots asleep in the grave |
| [03:38.78] | Then Squire, you will not be forgiven |
| [03:42.95] | By the free men you took as your slaves |
| [00:00.000] | zuo qu : Traditional |
| [00:08.44] | The merry brown hares came aleaping |
| [00:12.96] | Over the crest of the hill |
| [00:17.08] | Where the clover and corn lay asleeping |
| [00:21.73] | Under the moonlight so still |
| [00:26.02] | Leaping so late and so early |
| [00:30.12] | ' Till under their bite and their tread |
| [00:34.48] | The swedes and the wheat and the barley |
| [00:38.58] | Lay cankered and trampled and dead |
| [00:45.33] | A poacher' s poor widow sat sighing |
| [00:49.55] | On the side of the mosspatterned bank |
| [00:53.93] | Where under the gloom of the firwoods |
| [00:58.26] | One acre of ground laying rank |
| [01:02.51] | She watched over barely grown clover |
| [01:06.66] | Where rabbit or hare never ran |
| [01:11.29] | For the ground that it all covered over |
| [01:15.56] | Hid the blood of a good murdered man |
| [01:22.35] | She thought of the shaded plantation |
| [01:26.49] | And the hares and her husband' s own blood |
| [01:30.82] | And the voice of her own indignation |
| [01:35.08] | Rose up to the throne of her God |
| [01:39.36] | There' s blood on your new foreign shrubs, Squire |
| [01:43.75] | There' s blood on your pointer' s cold feet |
| [01:48.07] | There' s blood on the game that you sell Squire |
| [01:52.38] | And there' s blood on the game that you eat |
| [01:58.24] | You have sold out the labouring man, Squire |
| [02:03.35] | Both body and soul for to shame |
| [02:07.72] | To pay for your seat in the House, Squire |
| [02:11.88] | And to pay for the feed of your game |
| [02:16.24] | You made him a poacher yourself, Squire |
| [02:20.49] | When you' d give not the work nor the meat |
| [02:25.04] | And your barleyfed hares robbed the garden |
| [02:29.25] | At our starving poor little one' s feet |
| [02:35.24] | When packed into one tiny chamber |
| [02:40.16] | Man, mother and little ones lay |
| [02:44.38] | While the rain pattered in on our bride bed |
| [02:48.83] | And the walls barely held out the day |
| [02:53.15] | When we lay in the heat of the fever |
| [02:57.48] | On the mud and the clay of the floor |
| [03:01.76] | ' Till you parted us all for three months, Squire |
| [03:06.14] | And we knocked at the working house door |
| [03:12.76] | So to kennels and liveried varlets |
| [03:16.85] | Where you starved your own daughter of bread |
| [03:21.46] | And worn out with liquor and s |
| [03:25.55] | See your heirs at your feet lying dead |
| [03:29.98] | When you follow them into your heaven |
| [03:34.35] | And your soul rots asleep in the grave |
| [03:38.78] | Then Squire, you will not be forgiven |
| [03:42.95] | By the free men you took as your slaves |
| [00:00.000] | zuò qǔ : Traditional |
| [00:08.44] | The merry brown hares came aleaping |
| [00:12.96] | Over the crest of the hill |
| [00:17.08] | Where the clover and corn lay asleeping |
| [00:21.73] | Under the moonlight so still |
| [00:26.02] | Leaping so late and so early |
| [00:30.12] | ' Till under their bite and their tread |
| [00:34.48] | The swedes and the wheat and the barley |
| [00:38.58] | Lay cankered and trampled and dead |
| [00:45.33] | A poacher' s poor widow sat sighing |
| [00:49.55] | On the side of the mosspatterned bank |
| [00:53.93] | Where under the gloom of the firwoods |
| [00:58.26] | One acre of ground laying rank |
| [01:02.51] | She watched over barely grown clover |
| [01:06.66] | Where rabbit or hare never ran |
| [01:11.29] | For the ground that it all covered over |
| [01:15.56] | Hid the blood of a good murdered man |
| [01:22.35] | She thought of the shaded plantation |
| [01:26.49] | And the hares and her husband' s own blood |
| [01:30.82] | And the voice of her own indignation |
| [01:35.08] | Rose up to the throne of her God |
| [01:39.36] | There' s blood on your new foreign shrubs, Squire |
| [01:43.75] | There' s blood on your pointer' s cold feet |
| [01:48.07] | There' s blood on the game that you sell Squire |
| [01:52.38] | And there' s blood on the game that you eat |
| [01:58.24] | You have sold out the labouring man, Squire |
| [02:03.35] | Both body and soul for to shame |
| [02:07.72] | To pay for your seat in the House, Squire |
| [02:11.88] | And to pay for the feed of your game |
| [02:16.24] | You made him a poacher yourself, Squire |
| [02:20.49] | When you' d give not the work nor the meat |
| [02:25.04] | And your barleyfed hares robbed the garden |
| [02:29.25] | At our starving poor little one' s feet |
| [02:35.24] | When packed into one tiny chamber |
| [02:40.16] | Man, mother and little ones lay |
| [02:44.38] | While the rain pattered in on our bride bed |
| [02:48.83] | And the walls barely held out the day |
| [02:53.15] | When we lay in the heat of the fever |
| [02:57.48] | On the mud and the clay of the floor |
| [03:01.76] | ' Till you parted us all for three months, Squire |
| [03:06.14] | And we knocked at the working house door |
| [03:12.76] | So to kennels and liveried varlets |
| [03:16.85] | Where you starved your own daughter of bread |
| [03:21.46] | And worn out with liquor and s |
| [03:25.55] | See your heirs at your feet lying dead |
| [03:29.98] | When you follow them into your heaven |
| [03:34.35] | And your soul rots asleep in the grave |
| [03:38.78] | Then Squire, you will not be forgiven |
| [03:42.95] | By the free men you took as your slaves |
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