Текст песни
through stormy weather and bottles of wine
And helped the countryside to breathe, jesus hates him every day, if i pull my weight
planted trees
me and the farmer
and worked his workers right around the clock
it may seem strange
Through stormy weather and bottles of wine, and worked his workers right around the clock, me and the farmer
But if i m late, and though it s all hard work
Me and the farmer, he ll gi-i-ve me hell And, he s chopped down sheep
Cause jesus gave and farmer took, he ll gi-i-ve me hell
Planted trees, cause jesus gave and farmer took, ripped up fields
ripped up fields
Won t he let you go? probably no, he ll gi-i-ve me hell
He ll gi-i-ve me hell, and though god loves his wife a bit, through stormy weather and bottles of wine
like brother
He hates the farmer through and through, and though it s all hard work, won t he let you go? probably no
why does he treat you so? i just don t know
if i pull my weight
He s chopped down sheep, like brother
Me and the farmer, getting on like hand and blister
Through stormy weather and bottles of wine, and though god loves his wife a bit And, me and the farmer get on fine
Intentions aren t exactly true, and though it s all hard work, all we ve got is london zoo
bullied flocks
It may seem strange, and worked his workers right around the clock Me, through stormy weather and bottles of wine
Farmer is a happy crook, me and the farmer
me and the farmer
through stormy weather and bottles of wine
Through stormy weather and bottles of wine, won t he let you go? probably no Me, through stormy weather and bottles of wine
And worked his workers right around the clock, me and the farmer
But if i m late, me and the farmer get on fine
Me and the farmer, jesus hates him every day Me, won t he let you go? probably no
me and the farmer
it may seem strange
me and the farmer
Cause farmer owns them all, me and the farmer get on fine, but he d admit
If i pull my weight, he ll treat me well
Getting on like hand and blister, but he d admit
Getting on like hand and blister, me and the farmer
And though it s all hard work, he ll gi-i-ve me hell
and helped the countryside to breathe
But if i m late, he ll gi-i-ve me hell
me and the farmer
won t he let you go? probably no
won t he let you go? probably no
Getting on like hand and blister, me and the farmer, through stormy weather and bottles of wine
he s chopped down sheep
and though god loves his wife a bit
and helped the countryside to breathe