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Treadmill Song歌词

歌曲名: Treadmill Song  歌手: Steeleye Span  所属专辑: 《Storm Force Ten》

介绍:《Treadmill Song》 是 Steeleye Span 演唱的歌曲,该歌曲收录在《Storm Force Ten》专辑中,如果您觉得好听的话,就把歌词分享给您的朋友共同聆听,一起支持歌手Steeleye Span吧!

Treadmill Song

作词 : Traditional
Traditional
Step in young man I know your face
It's nothing in your favour
A little time I'll give to you
Six months unto hard labour
At six o'clock the screw comes in
A bunch of keys all in his hand
Step up my lads, step up in time
And tread the wheel till breakfast time
And at eight o'clock the skilly comes in
It's sometimes thick and it's sometimes thin
And never a word dare we all say
Or it's bread and water all next day
At half past eight the bell do ring
And off to the chapel boys we must swing
Down on our bended knees we fall
The Lord have mercy on us all
And at nine o'clock the jangle ring
And all on the trap boys we must spring
Step up my lads, step up in time
The wheel's to tread and the corn's to grind
Now Saturday's come I am sorry to say
For Sunday is starvation day
Our hob-nail boots and our tin mugs too
They are not shined and they will not do
When six long months are gone and past
Then I'll return to my bonny, bonny lass
I'll leave the turnkeys all behind
The wheel to tread and the corn to grind

Treadmill SongLRC歌词

作词 : Traditional
Traditional
Step in young man I know your face
It's nothing in your favour
A little time I'll give to you
Six months unto hard labour
At six o'clock the screw comes in
A bunch of keys all in his hand
Step up my lads, step up in time
And tread the wheel till breakfast time
And at eight o'clock the skilly comes in
It's sometimes thick and it's sometimes thin
And never a word dare we all say
Or it's bread and water all next day
At half past eight the bell do ring
And off to the chapel boys we must swing
Down on our bended knees we fall
The Lord have mercy on us all
And at nine o'clock the jangle ring
And all on the trap boys we must spring
Step up my lads, step up in time
The wheel's to tread and the corn's to grind
Now Saturday's come I am sorry to say
For Sunday is starvation day
Our hob-nail boots and our tin mugs too
They are not shined and they will not do
When six long months are gone and past
Then I'll return to my bonny, bonny lass
I'll leave the turnkeys all behind
The wheel to tread and the corn to grind

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