Tinker Tailor

As I was a-walking one bright summer’s day

„Hey-hey“ said the beggar, „you get out of my way

Don’t give a damn for your children, your wife or your bed

It’s my street today and I’d like to be fed“

„From Strasbourg to London I’ve lived with your type

You get a licence to sing, you think you’re alright

You’re gentle, you’re cultured, too selfish to work

You take my trade away, the oldest trade on earth“

You’re a tinker, you’re a tailor

A soldier, you’re a sailor

A rich man, you’re a poor man

You’re a beggarman, you’re a thief

And I could turn my face and sing to the wall

Many is the time it wouldn’t matter at all!

„I don’t like your songs, I don’t like your voice

I don’t like like your ways, I don’t like your face

I haven’t got nothing but bring me some wine

I haven’t got nothing but plenty of time“

He smelled of the road, he smelled of his rags

He smelled of his beer, his piss and his fags

The winter will be coming and that is for sure

Maybe we‘ll meet again one day next year