Steeleye Span - Ned Ludd Part 2 (Rural Retreat) lyrics
[Steeleye Span - Ned Ludd Part 2 Rural Retreat lyrics]
As the people of England
In numbers they doubled
Move to the cities where work's to be found
Well, it's farewell, green
Country and greetings, black city
Grime, smoking chimneys
And machines' hellish soundhello
Men, mothers, and maidens
And most of us children
Mindful of starving and bread's heavy price
We all go to the factory temple to offer
Our gift to the idol of Greed, sacrifice
And it's two months hard
Labour if workers combine
But call the man The Gaffer
It's a fifteen guinea fine
We pay for machinеs that take
Food from our table
We talk in dark rooms of a fair living wagе
While warehouses fill with the
Fruit's of our labour
Percival bets foreign ships out to trade
And it's two months hard
Labour if workers combine
But call the man The Gaffer
It's a fifteen guinea fine
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
Across the narrow waters
Where Frenchie fought us hard fathers, sons
And brothers died for nothing we have earned
No meat in Frenchie's barrel
No cheese upon his board
No bread on Frenchie's table
No harvest has he stored
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
In numbers they doubled
Move to the cities where work's to be found
Well, it's farewell, green
Country and greetings, black city
Grime, smoking chimneys
And machines' hellish soundhello
Men, mothers, and maidens
And most of us children
Mindful of starving and bread's heavy price
We all go to the factory temple to offer
Our gift to the idol of Greed, sacrifice
And it's two months hard
Labour if workers combine
But call the man The Gaffer
It's a fifteen guinea fine
We pay for machinеs that take
Food from our table
We talk in dark rooms of a fair living wagе
While warehouses fill with the
Fruit's of our labour
Percival bets foreign ships out to trade
And it's two months hard
Labour if workers combine
But call the man The Gaffer
It's a fifteen guinea fine
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
Across the narrow waters
Where Frenchie fought us hard fathers, sons
And brothers died for nothing we have earned
No meat in Frenchie's barrel
No cheese upon his board
No bread on Frenchie's table
No harvest has he stored
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread
And the bloody cold gets harder every day
New snares of death are spread
But our King Ludd and Captain Swing
Will restore our daily bread