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No Churchman Am I

  • (Trad)

    No churchman am I for to rail and to write
    No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight
    No sly man of business contriving a snare
    For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my care

    The peer I dont envy, I give him his bow
    I scorn not the peasant, tho' ever so low
    But a club of good fellows, like those that are here
    And a bottle like this are my glory and care

    Here passes the Squire on his brother- his horse
    There Centum per Centum, the Cit with his purse
    But see you the Crown how it waves in the air
    There a big-belly'd bottle still eases my care

    The wife o' my bosom, alas! she did die
    For sweet consolation to church I did fly
    I found that old Solomon proved it so fair
    That a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care

    I once was persuaded a venture to make
    A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck
    But the pursy old landlord just waddl'd upstairs
    With a glorious bottle that ended my cares

    Life's cares they are comforts, a maxim laid down
    By the Bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black gown
    And faith I agree with the old prig to a hair
    For a big-belly'd bottle's a heaven of care

    Repeat 1

    (as sung by The McCalmans)

Susannes Folksong-Notizen

  • nothing / nichts

Quelle: Scotland

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Henry
 Sammlung : Susanne Kalweit (Kiel)
Layout : Henry Kochlin  (Schwerin)

aktualisiert am 29.04.2002