Little Red Robin Hood Hit the Road Lyrics
| Song | Little Red Robin Hood Hit the Road |
| Artist | Robert Wyatt |
| Album | Theatre Royal Drury Lane [live] |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Wyatt | |
| In the garden of England, | |
| dead moles lie inside their holes. | |
| The dead-end tunnels crumble | |
| in the rain, underfoot. | |
| Innit a shame? | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Roots can't hold them. | |
| Bugs console them. | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Roots can't hold them. | |
| Bugs console them. | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| Can't you see them? | |
| (repeat to fade) | |
| I fight with the handle of my little brown broom. | |
| I pull out the wires of the telephone. | |
| I hurt in the head, and I hurt in the aching bone. | |
| Now I smash up the telly with remains of the broken phone. | |
| I fighting for the crust of the little brown loaf. | |
| I want it. I want it. I want it. Give it to me. | |
| I give it you back when I finish the lunchtea. | |
| I lie in the road, try to trip up the passing cars. | |
| Yes, me and the hedgehog, we bursting the tyres all day. | |
| As we roll down the highway towards the setting sun, | |
| I reflect on the life of the highwayman, yum yum. | |
| Now I smash up the telly and what's left of the broken phone. |
| zuo ci : Wyatt | |
| In the garden of England, | |
| dead moles lie inside their holes. | |
| The deadend tunnels crumble | |
| in the rain, underfoot. | |
| Innit a shame? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Roots can' t hold them. | |
| Bugs console them. | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Roots can' t hold them. | |
| Bugs console them. | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| repeat to fade | |
| I fight with the handle of my little brown broom. | |
| I pull out the wires of the telephone. | |
| I hurt in the head, and I hurt in the aching bone. | |
| Now I smash up the telly with remains of the broken phone. | |
| I fighting for the crust of the little brown loaf. | |
| I want it. I want it. I want it. Give it to me. | |
| I give it you back when I finish the lunchtea. | |
| I lie in the road, try to trip up the passing cars. | |
| Yes, me and the hedgehog, we bursting the tyres all day. | |
| As we roll down the highway towards the setting sun, | |
| I reflect on the life of the highwayman, yum yum. | |
| Now I smash up the telly and what' s left of the broken phone. |
| zuò cí : Wyatt | |
| In the garden of England, | |
| dead moles lie inside their holes. | |
| The deadend tunnels crumble | |
| in the rain, underfoot. | |
| Innit a shame? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Roots can' t hold them. | |
| Bugs console them. | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Roots can' t hold them. | |
| Bugs console them. | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| Can' t you see them? | |
| repeat to fade | |
| I fight with the handle of my little brown broom. | |
| I pull out the wires of the telephone. | |
| I hurt in the head, and I hurt in the aching bone. | |
| Now I smash up the telly with remains of the broken phone. | |
| I fighting for the crust of the little brown loaf. | |
| I want it. I want it. I want it. Give it to me. | |
| I give it you back when I finish the lunchtea. | |
| I lie in the road, try to trip up the passing cars. | |
| Yes, me and the hedgehog, we bursting the tyres all day. | |
| As we roll down the highway towards the setting sun, | |
| I reflect on the life of the highwayman, yum yum. | |
| Now I smash up the telly and what' s left of the broken phone. |
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