| (My mother said
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| I never should
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| Play with the gypsies in the wood
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| If I did
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| She; |
| d surely say
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| Naughty lad to disobey)
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| Lay the sleepy children down
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| Battered and on baby’s brow
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| Embers turn the night to smoke
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| Bottles, shelves of rebel ray and ghost
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| Of all jokes
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| Horses tethered tight to them hang
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| In the beds of straw strong arms fade
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| What are the words of the gypsy lament
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| Carnival, not hunted by the land
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| Sing of no surrender
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| Saw a fiddle cracked in a seller’s shack
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| That look on his face said don’t come back
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| As the crusty and the gypsy had their spat
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| Which one owns less of the land
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| One has asked the other if there; |
| s space
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| The other laughs, «You'd hardly last a day.
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| For all your bean fields and 'your pay-no-rents'
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| Can you really sing the rogue’s lament?
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| You’ll hang before you surrender, you’ll hang before you surrender,
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| you’ll hang before you surrender»
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| «I will not surrender!»
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| Hey!
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| «The boy could have grown to never strain a hand
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| Yet now he talks of working his own land
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| And father’s bribery is all for naught
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| For the moral of these stories can’t be bought
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| How a barber when idly’s his shed
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| To tend the wheat that soon should be your bread
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| If you choose rebellion over sweet consent, can you really sing the rogue’s
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| lament?
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| Not yet!"
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| I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again
|
| I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again
|
| When you roll your own bed, you; |
| ll always be on some lead
|
| You cannot sing the rogue’s lament again
|
| I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again
|
| I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again
|
| When you make your own bread, the baker’s always a friend,
|
| You cannot sing the rogue’s lament again
|
| I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again
|
| I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again
|
| When you roll your own bed, you’ll always be on some lead
|
| You cannot sing the rogue’s lament again
|
| You’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again! |