Текст песни Arthur McBride - Dave Swarbrick , Martin Carthy

I once knew a fellow called Arthur McBride
His pleasure was walking down by the seaside
A-walkin', a-talkin', a-viewin' the tide
Though the weather was pleasant and charming
So gay and so gallantly went on our tramp
We met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp
The bonny little drummer who roused up the camp
With his rowdy-dow-dow in the morning
Why don't me go, fellas? The sergeant did cry
The same to you, sergeant, me mate did reply
There was nothing more said and we made to pass by
All on that bright summer's morning
Why don't me go, fellas? If you would enlist
Ten guineas in gold I would slap in your fist
A crown in the bargain to kick up the dust
And to drink the king's health in the morning
Oh no, me good sergeant, we are not for sale
Though we're fond of our country, a bribe won't avail
Though we're fond of our country, we care not to sell
For we are the boys of the morning
And if we were stupid and took your advance
It's right bloody slender would be our poor chance
You wouldn't scruple to send us to France
Where we would get shot without warning
And it's no good you bragging to me of your clothes
You've only the lend of them as I suppose
And you dare say nothing for you well knows
That you would get flogged in the morning
If you would insult me without any word
I swear by me king I would draw my broadsword
Run through your bodies as strength me afford
Ere you could breathe out the morning
We laid the little drummer as flat as his shoe
We made a football of his rowdy-dow-doo
Sergeant, the corporal, we knocked out the two
For we were the boys of the morning
And as for the weapon that hung by their side
We flung them as far as we could in the tide
Devil go with you, said Arthur McBride
For spoiling our walk in the morning