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Chorus: We tote another box, we lift another sack, But what the hell, it's just as well -- I'll likely break my back! Now I don't see no gold -- I barely get my pay! In tavern call I drink it all -- I'll work another day! The lords are lording loud; the ladies lie in wait; The chambermaids are winking while the parties all run late. Now I'm not one to whine, but I believe it queer That they take more for spending coin than I make in a year! [chorus] The speaker likes to grouse, the council likes to blame, It matters not what plan they got, they use us all the same. They hatch another plot, a dodo once again; I turn my head and bite my thumb at fat old curs'ed Drend. [chorus] I can't get drunk and fight -- the Crescents think it sin. They never sing, they never dance, they're hardly mortal men. They flirt like eunuch boys, their livers have no fire, They seem to gain for me disdain what they lack in desire. [chorus] The clerics pray all night. The priests they pray all day. If I come in with starving kin, they wholly run away. We've got more gods than sense, each with an off'rin' bowl, But I'll chip in and tell my sin, so someone gets my soul. [chorus] |
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