Song | A Pict Song |
Artist | Billy Bragg |
Album | William Bloke |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Bragg, Kipling | |
Rome never looks where she treads | |
Always her heavy hooves fall | |
On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads | |
And rome never hears when we bawl | |
Her sentries pass on -- that is all | |
And we gather behind them in hordes | |
And plot to reconquer the wall | |
With only our tongues for our swords | |
For we are the little folk -- we! | |
Too little to love or to hate | |
Leave us alone and you'll see | |
That we can bring down the state | |
Mistletoe killing an oak | |
Rats gnawing cables in two | |
Moths making holes in a cloak | |
How they must love what they do! | |
Yes -- and we little folk too | |
We are as busy as they | |
Working our works out of view | |
Watch, and you'll see it some day | |
No indeed! we are not strong | |
But we know of peoples that are | |
Yes and we'll guide them along | |
To smash and destroy you in war | |
We shall be slaves just the same? | |
Yes, we have always been slaves | |
But you -- you will die of the shame | |
And then we will dance on your graves | |
We are the worm in the wood! | |
We are the rot at the root! | |
We are the taint in the blood! | |
We are the thorn in the foot! | |
Rudyard kipling |
zuo ci : Bragg, Kipling | |
Rome never looks where she treads | |
Always her heavy hooves fall | |
On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads | |
And rome never hears when we bawl | |
Her sentries pass on that is all | |
And we gather behind them in hordes | |
And plot to reconquer the wall | |
With only our tongues for our swords | |
For we are the little folk we! | |
Too little to love or to hate | |
Leave us alone and you' ll see | |
That we can bring down the state | |
Mistletoe killing an oak | |
Rats gnawing cables in two | |
Moths making holes in a cloak | |
How they must love what they do! | |
Yes and we little folk too | |
We are as busy as they | |
Working our works out of view | |
Watch, and you' ll see it some day | |
No indeed! we are not strong | |
But we know of peoples that are | |
Yes and we' ll guide them along | |
To smash and destroy you in war | |
We shall be slaves just the same? | |
Yes, we have always been slaves | |
But you you will die of the shame | |
And then we will dance on your graves | |
We are the worm in the wood! | |
We are the rot at the root! | |
We are the taint in the blood! | |
We are the thorn in the foot! | |
Rudyard kipling |
zuò cí : Bragg, Kipling | |
Rome never looks where she treads | |
Always her heavy hooves fall | |
On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads | |
And rome never hears when we bawl | |
Her sentries pass on that is all | |
And we gather behind them in hordes | |
And plot to reconquer the wall | |
With only our tongues for our swords | |
For we are the little folk we! | |
Too little to love or to hate | |
Leave us alone and you' ll see | |
That we can bring down the state | |
Mistletoe killing an oak | |
Rats gnawing cables in two | |
Moths making holes in a cloak | |
How they must love what they do! | |
Yes and we little folk too | |
We are as busy as they | |
Working our works out of view | |
Watch, and you' ll see it some day | |
No indeed! we are not strong | |
But we know of peoples that are | |
Yes and we' ll guide them along | |
To smash and destroy you in war | |
We shall be slaves just the same? | |
Yes, we have always been slaves | |
But you you will die of the shame | |
And then we will dance on your graves | |
We are the worm in the wood! | |
We are the rot at the root! | |
We are the taint in the blood! | |
We are the thorn in the foot! | |
Rudyard kipling |