The Plough Boy Sarah Brightman

A flaxen-headed cowboy, as simple as may be
And next a merry plough boy, I whistled o'er the lea;
But now a saucy footman, I strut in worsted lace
And soon I'll be a butler, and whey my jolly face

When steward I'm promoted I'll snip the tradesmen's bill
My master's coffers empty, my pockets for to fill
When lolling in my charlot so great a man I'll be
So great a man, so great a man, so great a man I'll be
You'll forget the little plough boy who whistled o'er the lea
You'll forget the little plough boy who whistled o'er the lea

I'll buy votes at elections, and when I've made the pelf
I'll stand poll for the parliament, and then vote in myself
Whetever's good for me, sir, I never will oppose:
When all my ayes are sold off, why then I'll sell my noes

I'll joke, harangue and paragraph, with speeches charm the ear
And when I'm tired on my legs, then I'll sit down a peer
In court or city honour so great a man I'll be
So great a man, so great a man, so great a man I'll be
You'll forget the little plough boy who whistled o'er the lea
You'll forget the little plough boy who whistled o'er the lea