Lord Bateman’s Motorbike

Lord Bateman runs an inn out on the A65
Sort of place where everybody drinks before they drive
Weekends runs a motorbike to Scarborough and back
He's not too many brandies from a second heart attack
John Barleycorn he works the land and drinks at Bateman's Inn
And every evening toasts to all the things that might have been
Tells the world that once he had a trial for Hull KR
Now he watches them on TV in the corner of the bar

Bateman gets up early lifts the latches on the gate
Seven horses stabled and the family sleeping late
Fourteen hundred acres two daughters and a son
He'll ride the eastern coast and back before the morning's done
Barleycorn he's up at dawn and working off the beer
Same thing every day of every week of every year
Hears Lord Bateman racing by along the county lanes
And pulls his jacket tight against the coming of the rain...

Lord Bateman meets the storm that's coming in from the shore
Speeding over Quarry Hill at 85 or more
There's rain to take the wheels away rain among the glass
And rain to wash the blood into the tarmac and the grass
In the months to come John Barleycorn he sits and drinks his fill
Measures out his life between his pocket and the till
So down the generations Bateman's son behind the bar
While Barleycorn he sips his beer and watches Hull KR.

Похожие новости.

I'm kinda ordinary To Me you were sorta scary But you seem to like me and that don't happen that much So I threw cation to the wind Gave you one half-hearted grin Thats all that

Муз: О.Молчанов Сл. К.Крастошевский Ночь входит в дом разбив стекло, Одним рывком открыв окно. Ночь входит в дом на склоне дня, Темно кругом, я жду огня, жду огня. Обманула надломила нас в недобрый час, Судьба

Watching him dash away, swinging an old bouquet - dead roses Sake and strange divine Uh-hu-hu-uh-hu-hu you'll make it Passionate bright young things, takes him away to war - don't fake it Sadden

I'm all in the kitchen call me the top chef Servin' up these yams till there ain't none left, Y'all niggas cooking babies, I'm cooking straight chickens now who got the gravy, Call me

I shouldn't have walked away I would've stayed if you'd say We could've made everything okay But we just threw the blame back and forth We treated love like a sport The final blow hit