The Swingle Singers - Bushes and Briars (England) | Текст песни

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• The Swingle Singers
• Bushes and Briars (England)

I can't believe that it's so cold

And there ain't been no snow.

The sound of music it comes to me

From every place I go.

Sunday morning, there's no one in church

But the clergy's chosen man

And he is fine I won't worry about him

Got the book in his hand.

There's a bitter east wind and the fields are swaying

The crows are round their nests.

I wonder what he's in there saying

To all those souls at rest.

I see the path which led to the door

And the clergy's chosen man

Bushes and briars, you and I

Where do we stand?

I wonder if he knows I'm here

Watching the briars grow.

And all these people beneath my shoes,

I wonder if they know.

There was a time when every last one

Knew a clergy's chosen man

Where are they now? Thistles and thorns

Among the sand.

I can't believe that it's so cold

And there ain't been no snow.

The sound of music it comes to me

From every place I go.

Sunday morning, there's no one in church

But the clergy's chosen man

Bushes and briars, thistles and thorns

Upon the land.


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