歌曲 | Tak' It, Man, Tak' It |
歌手 | Andy M. Stewart |
专辑 | Dublin Lady |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Traditional, Webster | |
When I was a miller in | |
Fife, Losh! | |
I thought that the sound o' the happer | |
Said, ``Tak' hame a wee flow to your wife, | |
To help to mak' brose to your supper.'' | |
Then my conscience was narrow and pure, | |
But someway by random it rackit; | |
For I lifted twa neivefu' or mair, | |
While the happer said, `` | |
Tak' it, man tak' it.'' | |
Then hey for the mill and the kiln, | |
The garland and gear for my cogie, | |
And hey for the whisky and gill, | |
That washes the dust frae my craigie. | |
Although it's been lang in repute | |
For rogues to mak' rich by deceiving, | |
Yet I see that it disna weel suit | |
Honest men to begin to the thieving. | |
For my heart it gaed dunt upon dunt, | |
Oh, I thought ilka dunt it wad crack it; | |
Sae I flang frae my neive what was in't, | |
Still the happer said, `` | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
A man that's been bred to the plough, | |
Might be deav'd wi' its clamorous clapper; | |
Yet there's few but would suffer the sough, | |
After kenning what's said by the happer. | |
I whiles thought it scoff'd me to scorn, | |
Saying, `` | |
Shame, is your conscience no chackit?'' | |
But when I grew dry from a horn, | |
It chang'd aye to `` | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
The smugglers whiles cam' wi' their pocks, ' | |
Cause they kent that | |
I likit a bicker, | |
Sae I bartered whiles wi' the gowks, | |
Gied them grain for a sowp o' their liquor. | |
I had lang been accustomed to drink, | |
And aye when | |
I purposed to quat it, | |
That thing wi' its clappertie clink | |
Said aye to me, `` | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
But the warst thing | |
I did in my life, | |
Nae doot but ye'll think | |
I was wrang o't; | |
Od! I tauld a bit bodie in | |
Fife A' my tale, and he made a bit sang o't. | |
I have aye had a voice a' my days, | |
But for singin' | |
I ne'er gat the knack o't; | |
Yet I try whyles, just thinking to please | |
The greedy, wi' `` | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
Now, miller and a' as | |
I am, This far | |
I can see through the matter; | |
There's men mair notorious to fame, | |
Mair greedy than me o' the muter. | |
For 'twad seem that the hale race o' men, | |
Or, wi' safety, the hauf we may mak' it, | |
Ha'e some speaking happer within, | |
That said to them `` | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' |
zuo ci : Traditional, Webster | |
When I was a miller in | |
Fife, Losh! | |
I thought that the sound o' the happer | |
Said, Tak' hame a wee flow to your wife, | |
To help to mak' brose to your supper.'' | |
Then my conscience was narrow and pure, | |
But someway by random it rackit | |
For I lifted twa neivefu' or mair, | |
While the happer said, | |
Tak' it, man tak' it.'' | |
Then hey for the mill and the kiln, | |
The garland and gear for my cogie, | |
And hey for the whisky and gill, | |
That washes the dust frae my craigie. | |
Although it' s been lang in repute | |
For rogues to mak' rich by deceiving, | |
Yet I see that it disna weel suit | |
Honest men to begin to the thieving. | |
For my heart it gaed dunt upon dunt, | |
Oh, I thought ilka dunt it wad crack it | |
Sae I flang frae my neive what was in' t, | |
Still the happer said, | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
A man that' s been bred to the plough, | |
Might be deav' d wi' its clamorous clapper | |
Yet there' s few but would suffer the sough, | |
After kenning what' s said by the happer. | |
I whiles thought it scoff' d me to scorn, | |
Saying, | |
Shame, is your conscience no chackit?'' | |
But when I grew dry from a horn, | |
It chang' d aye to | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
The smugglers whiles cam' wi' their pocks, ' | |
Cause they kent that | |
I likit a bicker, | |
Sae I bartered whiles wi' the gowks, | |
Gied them grain for a sowp o' their liquor. | |
I had lang been accustomed to drink, | |
And aye when | |
I purposed to quat it, | |
That thing wi' its clappertie clink | |
Said aye to me, | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
But the warst thing | |
I did in my life, | |
Nae doot but ye' ll think | |
I was wrang o' t | |
Od! I tauld a bit bodie in | |
Fife A' my tale, and he made a bit sang o' t. | |
I have aye had a voice a' my days, | |
But for singin' | |
I ne' er gat the knack o' t | |
Yet I try whyles, just thinking to please | |
The greedy, wi' | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
Now, miller and a' as | |
I am, This far | |
I can see through the matter | |
There' s men mair notorious to fame, | |
Mair greedy than me o' the muter. | |
For ' twad seem that the hale race o' men, | |
Or, wi' safety, the hauf we may mak' it, | |
Ha' e some speaking happer within, | |
That said to them | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' |
zuò cí : Traditional, Webster | |
When I was a miller in | |
Fife, Losh! | |
I thought that the sound o' the happer | |
Said, Tak' hame a wee flow to your wife, | |
To help to mak' brose to your supper.'' | |
Then my conscience was narrow and pure, | |
But someway by random it rackit | |
For I lifted twa neivefu' or mair, | |
While the happer said, | |
Tak' it, man tak' it.'' | |
Then hey for the mill and the kiln, | |
The garland and gear for my cogie, | |
And hey for the whisky and gill, | |
That washes the dust frae my craigie. | |
Although it' s been lang in repute | |
For rogues to mak' rich by deceiving, | |
Yet I see that it disna weel suit | |
Honest men to begin to the thieving. | |
For my heart it gaed dunt upon dunt, | |
Oh, I thought ilka dunt it wad crack it | |
Sae I flang frae my neive what was in' t, | |
Still the happer said, | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
A man that' s been bred to the plough, | |
Might be deav' d wi' its clamorous clapper | |
Yet there' s few but would suffer the sough, | |
After kenning what' s said by the happer. | |
I whiles thought it scoff' d me to scorn, | |
Saying, | |
Shame, is your conscience no chackit?'' | |
But when I grew dry from a horn, | |
It chang' d aye to | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
The smugglers whiles cam' wi' their pocks, ' | |
Cause they kent that | |
I likit a bicker, | |
Sae I bartered whiles wi' the gowks, | |
Gied them grain for a sowp o' their liquor. | |
I had lang been accustomed to drink, | |
And aye when | |
I purposed to quat it, | |
That thing wi' its clappertie clink | |
Said aye to me, | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
But the warst thing | |
I did in my life, | |
Nae doot but ye' ll think | |
I was wrang o' t | |
Od! I tauld a bit bodie in | |
Fife A' my tale, and he made a bit sang o' t. | |
I have aye had a voice a' my days, | |
But for singin' | |
I ne' er gat the knack o' t | |
Yet I try whyles, just thinking to please | |
The greedy, wi' | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' | |
Now, miller and a' as | |
I am, This far | |
I can see through the matter | |
There' s men mair notorious to fame, | |
Mair greedy than me o' the muter. | |
For ' twad seem that the hale race o' men, | |
Or, wi' safety, the hauf we may mak' it, | |
Ha' e some speaking happer within, | |
That said to them | |
Tak' it, man, tak' it.'' |