Из альбома: The Guard Years
One, two, and three jolly coachmen sat at an English tavern. Three jolly
coachmen sat at an English tavern,
And they decided, and they decided, and they decided to have another flagon.
Landlord, fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over.
For tonight we merr-I be,
Tomorrow we’ll be sober. (What!)
Here’s to the man who drinks dark ale and goes to bed quite mellow!
He lives as he ought to live
He’ll die a jolly good fellow! (Ha! Ha! Ha!)
Here’s to the man who drinks water pure and goes to bed quite sober.
He falls as the leaves do fall,
He’ll die before October! (Ho! Ho! Ho!)
Here’s to the maid who steals a kiss and runs to tell her mother.
She’s a foolish, foolish thing.
For she’ll not get another. (Pity!)
Here’s to the maid who steals a kiss and stays to steal another.
She’s a boon to all man kind.
For soon she’ll be a mother!