Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Woman's Lament, artist - Maria Muldaur. Album song Meet Me At Midnite, in the genre Фанк
Date of issue: 23.06.2008
Record label: Shout! Factory
Song language: English
The Woman's Lament |
One day I was walking, I heard a complaining |
And saw an old woman the picture of gloom |
She gazed at the mud on her doorstep ('twas raining) |
And this was her song as she wielded her broom |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |
There’s too much of worriment goes to a bonnet |
There’s too much of ironing goes to a shirt |
There’s nothing that pays for the time you waste on it |
There’s nothing that last us but trouble and dirt. |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |
In March it is mud, it is slush in December |
The midsummer breezes are loaded with dust |
In fall the leaves litter, in muddy September |
The wall paper rots and the candlesticks rust |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |
There are worms on the cherries and slugs on the roses |
And ants in the sugar and mice in the pies |
The rubbish of spiders no mortal supposes |
And ravaging roaches and damaging flies |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |
It’s sweeping at six and it’s dusting at seven |
It’s victuals at eight and it’s dishes at nine |
It’s potting and panning form ten to eleven |
We scarce break our fast till we plan how to dine |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |
With grease and with grime from corner to center |
Forever at war and forever alert |
No rest for a day lest the enemy enter |
I spend my whole life in struggle with dirt |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |
Last night in my dreams I was stationed forever |
On a far distant isle in the midst of the sea |
My one chance of life was a ceaseless endeavor |
To sweep off the waves as they swept over me |
Alas! |
Twas no dream; |
ahead I behold it |
I see I am helpless my fate to avert |
She lay down her broom, her apron she folded |
She lay down and died and was buried in dirt. |
Life is a trial and love is a trouble |
Beauty will fade and riches will flee |
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double |
And nothing is as I would wish it to be. |