Long Lankin lyrics

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Long Lankin lyrics

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<pre><font size='+2'>LONG LANKIN lyrics STEELEYE SPAN</font><br>There`s your lords and ladies fine,<br />
Riding in a coach and six,<br />
Nothing to drink but claret wine,<br />
Talking politicks.<br />
London is a dainty place,<br />
A great and gallant city!<br />
All the streets are paved with gold,<br />
And all the folks are witty.<br />
There`s your beaux with powder`d clothes,<br />
Bedaub`d from head to chin,<br />
Their pocket-holes adorned with gold,<br />
but not one sou within.<br />
There`s your lords and ladies fine,<br />
Riding in a coach and six,<br />
Nothing to drink but claret wine,<br />
Talking politicks.<br />
There your English actor goes<br />
With many a hungry belly;<br />
While heaps of gold are forc`d, God wot,<br />
on Signor Farinelli.<br />
There`s your lords and ladies fine,<br />
Riding in a coach and six,<br />
Nothing to drink but claret wine,<br />
Talking politicks.<br />
London is a dainty place,<br />
A great and gallant city!<br />
All the streets are paved with gold,<br />
All the folks are witty.<br />
There`s your dames with dainty frames,<br />
Skins as white as milk;<br />
Dressed every day in garments gay,<br />
Of satin and of silk.<br />
London is a dainty place.<br><br><a href='http://www.lyricsbay.com' target='_blank'>LyricsBay</a> | <a href="http://www.lyricsbay.com/long_lankin_lyrics-steeleye_span.html" target='_blank'>LONG LANKIN lyrics STEELEYE SPAN</a></pre>

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Long Lankin lyrics

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There`s your lords and ladies fine,
Riding in a coach and six,
Nothing to drink but claret wine,
Talking politicks.
London is a dainty place,
A great and gallant city!
All the streets are paved with gold,
And all the folks are witty.
There`s your beaux with powder`d clothes,
Bedaub`d from head to chin,
Their pocket-holes adorned with gold,
but not one sou within.
There`s your lords and ladies fine,
Riding in a coach and six,
Nothing to drink but claret wine,
Talking politicks.
There your English actor goes
With many a hungry belly;
While heaps of gold are forc`d, God wot,
on Signor Farinelli.
There`s your lords and ladies fine,
Riding in a coach and six,
Nothing to drink but claret wine,
Talking politicks.
London is a dainty place,
A great and gallant city!
All the streets are paved with gold,
All the folks are witty.
There`s your dames with dainty frames,
Skins as white as milk;
Dressed every day in garments gay,
Of satin and of silk.
London is a dainty place.

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