The Old Thrashing Mill-Brier

歌手 : Brier

专辑 : Sick Note

语种 : 英语

时长 : 03:21

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TXT The Old Thrashing Mill-Brier 文本歌词

The Old Thrashing Mill - Brier

As I walked down the road on this fine autumn morn

I can see the great combine collecting the corn

And my mind wanders back in a moment of joy

To the day of the thresher when I was a boy

All over the valley you could hear the strange sound

Of that mighty machine on its annual round

All the men in the town land would follow at will

And they'd all lend a hand with the old threshin' mill

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that's green

Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between

For eight empty bellies will soon need a fill

For it makes a man hungry the old threshing mill

There were two on the thresher and two on the stack

And the man with the fork kept the straw flyin' back

There were bottles of porter and plenty of fags

And old Larry Andy looked after the bags

Then a few of the boys built the straw in the reek

While the young ones were found playing hide-and-go-seek

And myself and my brother with the dogs and the cats

Had the time of our lives chasing after the rats

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that's green

Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between

For eight empty bellies will soon need a fill

For it makes a man hungry the old threshin' mill

But the times keep on changing and nothing stands still

Larry Emdy is gone like his old threshin' mill

And the most of the workers I knew as a child

Have reaped the great harvest for which they have toiled

No more in the valley we'll hear that machine

For just like the corn crate they're gone from the scene

But it makes me feel sad as I dream of it still

For I long for the dear sound of the old threshin' mill

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that's green

Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between

For eight empty bellies will soon need a fill

For it makes a man hungry the old threshin' mill

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that's green

Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between

For eight empty bellies will soon need a fill

For it makes a man hungry the old threshin' mill