Howard Goodall - Blackadder | Текст песни

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• Howard Goodall
• Blackadder

The sound of hooves beats 'cross the glade!
(Good folk, lock up your son and daughter!)
Beware the quickly flashing blade!
(Unless you want to end up shorter...)

-refrain-
Black Adder! Black Adder!
He rides a pitch black steed!
Black Adder! Black Adder!
He's very bad, indeed...

Black – his clothes of finest mole!
Black – his codpiece made of metal!
His horse is blacker than a hole!
His pot is blacker than his kettle!

-refrain-
Black Adder! Black Adder!
With many a cunning plan!
Black Adder! Black Adder!
You horrid little man...

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