Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. If it is that you need these things, then of course we will go there. I don’t think any surroundings could throw a shadow on you. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 14:43:21
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