Richard Thompson - Poor Ditching Boy Lyrics
Was there ever a winter so cold and so sad?The river too weary to floodThe storm in the wind cut through to my skinBut she cut through to my bloodI was looking for trouble to tangle my lineBut trouble came looking for meI knew I was standing on treacherous groundI was sinking too fast to run free(Chorus)With her scheming, idle waysShe left me poor enoughThe storm in the wind cut through to my skinBut she cut through to my bloodI would not be asking, I would not be seenBegging on mountain or hillBut I'm ready and blind with my hands tied behindOf neither a mind nor a will(Chorus)It's bitter, the need of the poor ditching boyHe'll always believe what they sayThey tell him it's hard to be honest and trueBut mind if he doesn't get paid(Chorus