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letra de i once lived in service - peter bellamy

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i once lived in service to a lady so fine
i’ve served her by night and by day-o
i’ve carried the dishes when the lady would dine
and after, i cleared them away-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant is all slavery

i’ve made up her bed and i turned down her sheets
i ironed the dresses she wore-o
i’ve peeled her potatoes, i’ve roasted her meats
and ’twas i, with me broom, swept her floor-o
oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant is all misery

i scrubbed her front doorstep, i polished her plate
i put coals in the pan for her bed-o
i’ve rose before sunlight to black-lead her grate
and at midnight i’ve laid down my head-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant is all drudgery

i’ve carried her water, i’ve answered her door
i’ve polished the shoes for her feet-o
and when she went to church, then her prayer book i bore
behind as she marched down the street-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant’s a penance to me

now, i met a young man in the village one day
as i run to the shop for her bread-o
he’s asked me my name, but i had to away
lest me mistress should break me poor head-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant has no liberty
so that night, as i lay in my attic so bare
i resolved that i would run away-o
and all for to honour the wagoner’s fare
some silver spoons took for me pay-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant is melancholy

now i lie in prison but i will not weep
who knows what tomorrow may hold-o
there’s some fine lads in here for me company to keep
there’s strong arms for to keep me from cold-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a convict is all chivalry

now i’ve known confinement the most of me years
small freedom did i ever ken-o
some prisons, sure, they have no cold iron bars
but some prisons, why, they have no men-o

oh dear me, how can it be?
the life of a convict’s a pleasure to me
dear me, how can it be?
the life of a servant was never so free

- peter bellamy

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