The Gunpowder Treason and plot;
I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes,
'Twas his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below.
Poor old England to overthrow.
By God's providence he was catch'd,
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holloa boys, Holloa boys,
let the bells ring
Holloa boys, Holloa boys,
God save the King!
Hip hip Hoorah!
Hip hip Hoorah!
A penny loaf to feed ol'Pope,
A farthing cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down,
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar,
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head,
Then we'll say: ol'Pope is dead.
Sometimes I feel like I was meant to British. London is unequivocally my favourite city in the world, I am prone to saying 'lovely', I drink tea more than I drink water; and I really kind of wish that tonight I could bundle up, make a thermos of hot chocolate, and watch some fireworks.
No comments:
Post a Comment