Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Arthur Mcbride, artist - Mysteria. Album song Magical and Mystical Worlds, Vol. 1, in the genre Электроника
Date of issue: 01.08.2013
Record label: M.A.T. Music Theme Licensing
Song language: English
Arthur Mcbride |
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride |
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside |
We met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Pry |
The day bein' Christmas morning |
«Good morning, good morning,» the sergeant did cry |
«And the same to you gentleman,» we did reply |
Intending no harm but meant to pass by |
The day bein' pleasant and charming. |
«But,» says he, «My fine fellows, if you will enlist |
It’s ten guineas in gold I’ll slip in your fist |
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust |
And drink the king’s health in the morning. |
«For a soldier, he lives a very fine life |
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife |
While other poor fellows have sorrow and strive |
And sup on thin gruel in the morning». |
«But,» says Arthur, «I wouldn’t be proud of your clothes |
For you only lend out them, now as I suppose |
And you dare not change them one night, |
If you dare, for you know you’ll be flogged in the morning. |
«And we have no desire to take your advance |
For all of the dangers we not take the chance |
For you’d have no scruples in send us to France |
Where we know we’d be shot in the morning» |
«Oh no,» says the Sergeant, «If I hear one more word |
I quickly right novel will draw out me sword |
And straight into your body a strenght will afford |
So now me young devils take warning» |
But Arthur and I we counted the odds |
And we scarce gave them time for to draw their own blades |
With our trusty shillelaghs we bashed them in their heads |
And paid them right smart in the morning. |
And the old rusty rapiers that hung by their sides |
We flung them as far as we could in the tide |
«Now take that you devils!» |
cried Arthur McBride |
«And temper your steel in the morning!». |
And the little wee drummer, we flattened his pouch |
And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow |
Threw it into the ocean for to rock and to roll |
And bade it a tedious returning. |
Oh, me and my cousin, one Artur McBride |
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside |
Seeking good fortune and what did betide |
For it bein' on Christmas morning. |