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Текст песни Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds - Rye Whiskey (tranditonal version)

Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds - Rye Whiskey (tranditonal version) слова песни




I`ll eat when I`m hungry,I`ll drink when l`m dry,If the hard times don`t kill me,I`ll lay down and die.Rye whisky, rye whisky,Rye whisky, I cry,If you don`t give me rye whisky,I surely will die.I`ll tune up my fiddle,And I`ll rosin my bow,I`ll make myself welcome,Wherever I go.Beefsteak when I`m hungry,Red liquor when I`m dry,Greenbacks when I`m hard up,And religion when I die.They say I drink whisky,My money`s my own;All them that don`t like me,Can leave me alone.Sometimes I drink whisky,Sometimes I drink rum,Sometimes I drink brandy,At other times none.But if I get boozy,My whisky`s my own,And them that don`t like me,Can leave me alone.Jack o` diamonds, jack o` diamonds,I know you of old,You`ve robbed my poor pocketsOf silver and gold.Oh, whisky, you villain,You`ve been my downfall,You`ve kicked me, you`ve cuffed me,But I love you for all.If the ocean was whisky,And I was a duck,I`d dive to the bottomTo get one sweet suck.But the ocean ain`t whiskyAnd I ain`t a duck,So we`ll round up the cattleAnd then we`ll get drunk.My foot`s in my stirrup,My bridle`s in my hand,l`m leaving sweet Lillie,The fairest in the land.Her parents don`t like me,They say l`m too poor;They say I`m unworthyTo enter her door.Sweet milk when l`m hungry,Rye whisky when l`m dry,If a tree don`t fall on me,I`ll live till I die.I`ll buy my own whisky,I`ll make my own stew,If I get drunk, madam,It`s nothing to you.I`ll drink my own whisky,I`ll drink my own wine,Some ten thousand bottlesI`ve killed in my time.I`ve no wife to quarrelNo babies to bawl;The best way of livingIs no wife at all.Way up on Clinch MountainI wander alone,l`m as drunk as the devil,Oh, let me alone.You may boast of your knowledgeAn` brag of your sense,`Twill all be forgottenA hundred years hence.(Negro Variant)In my little log cabin,Ever since I been born,Dere ain`t been no nothin``Cept dat hard salt, parched corn.But I know whar`s a henhouse,De turkey he charve;An, if ol` Massa don` kill meI cain`t never starve.(Variant chorus)Rye whisky, rye whisky,You`re no friend to me;You killed my poor daddy,Goddamn you, try me.From American Ballads and Folk Songs, LomaxNote: One of the more exhaustive texts

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