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Poverty Knock

Roy Bailey
Language: English


Roy Bailey

List of versions



‎[primi anni del 900]‎
Canzone da più fonti attribuita a tal Tom Daniel, un operaio tessile di Batley, Yorkshire, nato ‎intorno al 1890 e morto negli anni 70. Fu raccolta prima della sua morte da tal Tony Green. Questo ‎secondo le informazioni disponibili su ‎‎English Folk Music e su ‎‎Mudcat Café
L’ho attribuita a Roy Bailey perché mi sembra che sia il primo ad averla incisa in un suo disco del ‎‎1971.‎

Roy Bailey

Una canzone sulle terribili condizioni di lavoro negli stabilimenti tessili inglesi all’inizio del 900, ‎dove ai telai lavoravano soprattutto donne e bambini (l’autore della canzone cominciò a lavorarvi ‎che eveva appena 11 anni!) e gli incidenti causati dalle spolette dei telai erano all’ordine del ‎giorno…‎
Mi ha ricordato anche la famosa scena del telaio assassino nel film di e con Francesco Nuti ‎‎“Madonna che silenzio c’è stasera”…‎

Si vedano sl tema anche altre canzoni già presenti sul sito, come Hard Times in a Cotton Mill (Cotton Mill Blues)

Up in the morning at five, it's a wonder that we stay alive
It sets me yawning to great the cold dawning
And back to the old, dreary drive

[Chorus after every other verse]
Poverty poverty knock, my loom it is saying all day
Poverty poverty knock, Gaffer's too skinny to pay
Poverty poverty knock, always one eye on the clock
I know I can guttle when I hear me shuttle go
Poverty poverty knock

Oh dear, I'm going to be late, Gaffer is standing at gate
With his hands in his pockets our wages he'll dock us
We'll have to buy grub on the slate

We have to wet our own yarn by dipping it in yonder tarn
It's cold and it's soggy, it makes me feel
And there's rats in that dirty old barn.‎

Sometimes a shuttle flies out and gives some poor woman a clout
She lies there bleeding while nobody's heading
Who's going to carry her out?

The tuner should tackle my loom, but he just sits there on his bum
He's always busy a-courting our Lizzie
And I just can't get him to come

And Lizzie's so easily led, I reckon he takes her to bed
She used to be skinny, now look at her pinny
It's just about time they were wed

Oh my poor head how it sings, I should have woven three strings
The threads they keep breaking, my poor heart is aching
Oh God, how I wish I had wings.‎

Contributed by Bernart - 2013/8/28 - 12:04




Language: English

Versione dei Chumbawamba dal loro album dedicato alle “English Rebel Songs 1381-‎‎1914” pubblicato nel 1988.‎

English Rebel Songs ‎‎1381-1914


English Rebel Songs

''English Rebel Songs 1381–1914'' by Chumbawamba.


The Cutty Wren - The Diggers' Song [Levellers and Diggers] - The Colliers March - The Triumph Of General Ludd - Chartists Anthem - Song on the Times - Smashing Of The Van - The World Turned Upside Down [Digger's Song] - Poverty Knock - Idris Strike Song - Hanging On The Old Barbed Wire

Nel 2003 i Chumbawamba hanno ripubblicato l'album aggiungendo alcune canzoni con il titolo ''English Rebel Songs 1381–1984'':

The Bad Squires - Coal Not Dole

POVERTY KNOCK

Poverty, poverty knock,
My loom it is saying all day.
Poverty poverty knock,
Gaffer's too skinny to pay.
Poverty, poverty knock,
Keeping one eye on the clock.
I know I can guttle
When I hear my shuttle
Go poverty, poverty knock‎

Up ev'ry morning at five,
I wonder that we keep alive.
Tired and yawning,
Another cold morning
It's back to the dreary old drive.‎

Poverty, poverty knock,
My loom it is saying all day.
Poverty poverty knock,
Gaffer's too skinny to pay.
Poverty, poverty knock,
Keeping one eye on the clock.
I know I can guttle
When I hear my shuttle
Go poverty, poverty knock

Oh dear, we're going to be late,
Gaffer is stood at the gate;
We're out of pocket
Our wages he'll dock it,
We'll have to buy grub on the slate.‎

Poverty, poverty knock,
My loom it is saying all day.
Poverty poverty knock,
Gaffer's too skinny to pay.
Poverty, poverty knock,
Keeping one eye on the clock.
I know I can guttle
When I hear my shuttle
Go poverty, poverty knock

And when all our wages they'll bring,
We're often short of a string.
While we are fratching
With Gaffer for snatching
We know to his purse he will cling.‎

Poverty, poverty knock,
My loom it is saying all day.
Poverty poverty knock,
Gaffer's too skinny to pay.
Poverty, poverty knock,
Keeping one eye on the clock.
I know I can guttle
When I hear my shuttle
Go poverty, poverty knock

Sometimes a shuttle flies out
And gives some poor woman a clout.
There she lies bleeding
But nobody's heading,
Oh who's going to carry her out?‎

Poverty, poverty knock,
My loom it is saying all day.
Poverty poverty knock,
Gaffer's too skinny to pay.
Poverty, poverty knock,
Keeping one eye on the clock.
I know I can guttle
When I hear my shuttle
Go poverty, poverty knock

Oh dear, my poor head it sings,
I should have woven three strings.
But threads are breaking,
And my back is aching,
Oh dear how I wish I had wings.‎

Poverty, poverty knock,
My loom it is saying all day.
Poverty poverty knock,
Gaffer's too skinny to pay.
Poverty, poverty knock,
Keeping one eye on the clock.
I know I can guttle
When I hear my shuttle
Go poverty, poverty knock

Contributed by Bernart - 2013/8/28 - 12:06




Language: English

Janet Wood's version

People living in more deprived areas of England and Wales are more likely to die with coronavirus than those in more affluent places, new figures suggest.

Office for National Statistics analysis shows there were 55 deaths for every 100,000 people in the poorest parts of England, compared with 25 in the wealthiest areas.

[BBC News]
Poverty poverty knock, my loom is a saying all day
Poverty poverty knock, gaffer's too skinny to pay
Poverty poverty knock, keeping one eye on the clock
I know I can guttle when I hear my shuttle
go poverty poverty knock

One hundred years and a score
This song echoes from the mill floor
From factory workers to drivers and servers
The rich are still fleecing the poor

Personal needs are a crime
When slaving for Amazon Prime
Working full throttle I’ll pee in a bottle
’Cos loo breaks are deemed idle time

Nine seconds to process a pack
It’s taking its toll on my back
I’m fighting off sleep, work all day on the cheap, think I’m
having a panic attack

Three hundred items an hour
The joys of employment gone sour
Force of the market’s, impossible targets
The clock and the boss hold the power

So poverty, poverty knocks, its sound can be heard down the years
Poverty, poverty knocks, playing on family fears
Poverty, poverty knocks, still keeping an eye on the clock
It stalks in the dark before making its mark
Singing poverty, poverty knock

Contributed by giorgio - 2020/8/30 - 12:51


https://cnet2.cbsistatic.com/img/_BMDm...

2020/8/30 - 12:52




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