| Song | The Court's Fool |
| Artist | Revoltons |
| Album | Night Visions |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Corona, Revoltons | |
| I'm going to tell you | |
| About the story of a fool | |
| Who met an ironic end | |
| On the way back home | |
| He was a queer fellow | |
| Dressed in many colours | |
| And many were his names | |
| According to the place | |
| He carried a little lute across his back | |
| And a strange hat on his head | |
| Every night he was there | |
| In the court's yard to delight | |
| All the nobles that just called him "The Fool" | |
| But his tongue was a sort of knife | |
| And all his melodies and tales | |
| Re-echoed through the night | |
| Lords of the realm never paid attention | |
| To the words of a poor fool | |
| Or they simply never understood him | |
| He was living on the edge, and maybe | |
| He would end up with a noose around his neck | |
| But something was going to happen that night | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| Every night he was there | |
| In the court's yard to delight | |
| All the nobles that just called him "The Fool" | |
| But his tongue was a sort of knife | |
| And all his melodies and tales | |
| Re-echoed through the night | |
| So that night in the middle of the tale | |
| He pointed at the King and burst out laughing: | |
| A deathlike silence set on the guests! | |
| So the wrathful Master rose to his feet | |
| And chased the Fool out of his yard | |
| But the Fool got near the Lords' table | |
| Drank from Master's goblet and said: | |
| "God save the King!" and broke into a laugh! | |
| Chased out of the Court | |
| The fool took the way back home | |
| But after a while he was seized by a sudden illness and dropped dead | |
| Maybe there wasn't just wine in that goblet | |
| [Chorus] |
| zuo qu : Corona, Revoltons | |
| I' m going to tell you | |
| About the story of a fool | |
| Who met an ironic end | |
| On the way back home | |
| He was a queer fellow | |
| Dressed in many colours | |
| And many were his names | |
| According to the place | |
| He carried a little lute across his back | |
| And a strange hat on his head | |
| Every night he was there | |
| In the court' s yard to delight | |
| All the nobles that just called him " The Fool" | |
| But his tongue was a sort of knife | |
| And all his melodies and tales | |
| Reechoed through the night | |
| Lords of the realm never paid attention | |
| To the words of a poor fool | |
| Or they simply never understood him | |
| He was living on the edge, and maybe | |
| He would end up with a noose around his neck | |
| But something was going to happen that night | |
| Chorus: | |
| Every night he was there | |
| In the court' s yard to delight | |
| All the nobles that just called him " The Fool" | |
| But his tongue was a sort of knife | |
| And all his melodies and tales | |
| Reechoed through the night | |
| So that night in the middle of the tale | |
| He pointed at the King and burst out laughing: | |
| A deathlike silence set on the guests! | |
| So the wrathful Master rose to his feet | |
| And chased the Fool out of his yard | |
| But the Fool got near the Lords' table | |
| Drank from Master' s goblet and said: | |
| " God save the King!" and broke into a laugh! | |
| Chased out of the Court | |
| The fool took the way back home | |
| But after a while he was seized by a sudden illness and dropped dead | |
| Maybe there wasn' t just wine in that goblet | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Corona, Revoltons | |
| I' m going to tell you | |
| About the story of a fool | |
| Who met an ironic end | |
| On the way back home | |
| He was a queer fellow | |
| Dressed in many colours | |
| And many were his names | |
| According to the place | |
| He carried a little lute across his back | |
| And a strange hat on his head | |
| Every night he was there | |
| In the court' s yard to delight | |
| All the nobles that just called him " The Fool" | |
| But his tongue was a sort of knife | |
| And all his melodies and tales | |
| Reechoed through the night | |
| Lords of the realm never paid attention | |
| To the words of a poor fool | |
| Or they simply never understood him | |
| He was living on the edge, and maybe | |
| He would end up with a noose around his neck | |
| But something was going to happen that night | |
| Chorus: | |
| Every night he was there | |
| In the court' s yard to delight | |
| All the nobles that just called him " The Fool" | |
| But his tongue was a sort of knife | |
| And all his melodies and tales | |
| Reechoed through the night | |
| So that night in the middle of the tale | |
| He pointed at the King and burst out laughing: | |
| A deathlike silence set on the guests! | |
| So the wrathful Master rose to his feet | |
| And chased the Fool out of his yard | |
| But the Fool got near the Lords' table | |
| Drank from Master' s goblet and said: | |
| " God save the King!" and broke into a laugh! | |
| Chased out of the Court | |
| The fool took the way back home | |
| But after a while he was seized by a sudden illness and dropped dead | |
| Maybe there wasn' t just wine in that goblet | |
| Chorus |