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The King Blues
The King Blues


Информация
Откуда London, England
Жанры Folk-Rock
Ska
Alternative Rock
Punk Rock
Годы 2004—н.в.
Лейблы Island Records
Transgressive Records
Field Records
См. также The Skints
Сайт Website
Состав
Jonny 'Itch' Fox
Jamie Jazz
Jack Usher
Dean Ashton
Kat Marsh
Бывшие участники
Robin Guy
Chris Goodman
Mike 'Fruitbag' Payne
Johnny Rich
Al Gunby
Jim Parmley
George Lindsay
Perkie
Ade Preston



Тексты песен The King Blues

Текст песни "The Schemers, The Scroungers & The Rats"


Will you still love me, will you still hug me,
When I’m 84,
When I’ve been working all my life,
And I’m still bloody poor?
Dust in my lungs, a broken back,
Still can’t retire it hurts,
I’m all for workers’ rights and that,
As long as I don’t have to work,

So hats off to the schemers, to the scroungers, to the rats,
To the ones who sleep on mattresses on the floor, clutching baseball bats,
To the beggars and the cheaters and the kings who rise at noon,
To the scoundrels, the misfits, the parasites, this one’s for you,

“Don’t send me on another New Deal course,
I can already spell my name, you lot take the piss”

Maybe I’ll never shoot a rabbit,
Perhaps I’ll never drink champagne,
But that’s alright with me,
I prefer cider anyway,
I’m happy doing nothing,
They tell me it’s all a waste,
But I ain’t never seen no 3 piece suit,
With a smile on his face,

So hats off to the schemers, to the scroungers, to the rats,
To the ones who sleep on mattresses on the floor, clutching baseball bats,
To the beggars and the cheaters and the kings who rise at noon,
To the scoundrels, the misfits, the parasites, this one’s for you,

“I searched all the newspapers and made my CV,
I swear there just ain’t nothing out there”

A 9 to 5, 5 days a week,
Is bottom of my list,
I just couldn’t live with myself,
Knowing there was something that I missed,
So don’t go telling me “Take it seriously”,
Believe me I do,
But life’s for living, not for working,
And I got better things to do,

So hats off to the schemers, to the scroungers, to the rats,
To the ones who sleep on mattresses on the floor, clutching baseball bats,
To the beggars and the cheaters and the kings who rise at noon,
To the scoundrels, the misfits, the parasites, this one’s for you

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