Poor Ditching Boy Songtext
von Fairport Convention

Was there ever a winter so cold and so sad
With a river too ready to flood?
The storming wind cut through to my skin
But she cut through to me blood
I was looking for trouble to tangle my lines
When trouble come a-looking for me
I knew I was standing on treacherous ground
But I was sinking too fast to run free

With her scheming hideaway
She left me poor enough
The storming wind cut through to my skin
But she cut through to me blood


Now I would not be asking, I would not be seen
Either begging on a mountain or hill
Still I′m ready and I'm blind with my hands tied behind
For I′ve neither the mind nor the will
Oh it's bitter and need enough to pull the chain away
For he'll always believe what they say
When they tell him it′s hard to be honest and good
Does he mind when he doesn′t get paid?

With her scheming hideaway
She left me poor enough
The storming wind cut through to my skin
But she cut through to me blood

With her scheming hideaway
She left me poor enough
The storming wind cut through to my skin
But she cut through to me blood