Poor Ditching Boy

(альбом: Acoustic Rarities - 2017)

Was there ever a winter so cold and so sad?
The river too weary to flood
The storming wind cut through to my skin
Oh but she cut through to my blood

I was looking for trouble to tangle my line
But trouble came looking for me
I knew I was standing on treacherous ground
I was sinking too fast to run free

With her scheming, idle ways
She left me poor enough
Oh the storming wind cut through to my skin
Oh but she cut through to my blood

No I would not be asking, I would not be seen
Begging on mountain or hill
But I'm ready and blind with my hands tied behind
Neither a mind nor a will

With her scheming, idle ways
She left me poor enough
Oh the storming wind cut through to my skin
Oh but she cut through to my blood

Now it's bitter the need of the poor ditching boy
He'll always believe what they say
They tell him it's hard to be honest and true
Does he mind if he doesn't get paid?

With her scheming, idle ways
She left me poor enough
Oh the storming wind cut through to my skin
But she cut through to my blood
Oh the storming wind cut through to my skin
Oh she cut through to my blood