Billy Budd, op. 50, Act 1: Your name? Billy Budd, sir Songtext
von Benjamin Britten

Your name?
Billy Budd, sir
Your age?
Don′t know, sir
You don't know?
Your trade?
Able seaman
Can you read?
No, but I can sing
Never mind the singing
This looks better
This looks better
Better voice for battle
Bitter battles
Bitter battles
Stand in battle
Found him with a limp?
Oh, yes, sir
Yes, indeed
Has your home?


Haven′t any
They say I was a- was a- of- of- He stammers
Of- He stammers
Of- That's a pity
Of- You're a fine recruit otherwise
Of- All the boys are ploys
All the boys are ploys
You′re a fine recruit otherwise
You′re a fine recruit otherwise
Always something
Of- foundling
Aye, it comes and it goes, or so the chaps tell me
Don't you worry
Foundling, that′s the word
Foundling
I'm a foundling
Found in a basket tied to a good man′s door, the poor old man
A pretty good find
That's all right, sir
What do you say, Master-at-Arms?
A find in a thousand, Your Honor
A beauty, a jewel, a pearl of great price
We need many more like him
Your Honor, there are no more like him
I′ve seen many men, many years that I've
Given to the king, sailed many seas
He is a king's bargain
Now, where shall we place him?
Foretop, I think
Foretop man, be off and good luck to you, my little behavior cell
And do as you′re told!
Thank you, sir
Foretop man, thank you!