The Gypsy, The Punk, And The Fool (A Tale) - Mischief Brew

(My mother said

I never should

Play with the gypsies in the wood

If I did

She;

d surely say

Naughty lad to disobey)

Lay the sleepy children down

Battered and on baby’s brow

Embers turn the night to smoke

Bottles, shelves of rebel ray and ghost

Of all jokes

Horses tethered tight to them hang

In the beds of straw strong arms fade

What are the words of the gypsy lament

Carnival, not hunted by the land

Sing of no surrender

Saw a fiddle cracked in a seller’s shack

That look on his face said don’t come back

As the crusty and the gypsy had their spat

Which one owns less of the land

One has asked the other if there;

s space

The other laughs, «You'd hardly last a day.

For all your bean fields and 'your pay-no-rents'

Can you really sing the rogue’s lament?

You’ll hang before you surrender, you’ll hang before you surrender,

you’ll hang before you surrender»

«I will not surrender!»

Hey!

«The boy could have grown to never strain a hand

Yet now he talks of working his own land

And father’s bribery is all for naught

For the moral of these stories can’t be bought

How a barber when idly’s his shed

To tend the wheat that soon should be your bread

If you choose rebellion over sweet consent, can you really sing the rogue’s

lament?

Not yet!"

I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again

I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again

When you roll your own bed, you;

ll always be on some lead

You cannot sing the rogue’s lament again

I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again

I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again

When you make your own bread, the baker’s always a friend,

You cannot sing the rogue’s lament again

I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again

I’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again

When you roll your own bed, you’ll always be on some lead

You cannot sing the rogue’s lament again

You’ll sing the rogue’s lament never again!