Rigs of the Time The Dreadnoughts
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Rigs of the Time" by The Dreadnoughts. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
No wonder that butter's a shilling a pound
See those rich farmers' daughters how they ride up and down
If you ask them the reason they'll say, "Bon alas!
There's been a French war, so the cows have no grass"
Honesty's all out of fashion
These are the rigs of the time
Time, me boys
These are the rigs of the time
Now here's to our landlord, I must bring him in
Charges tuppence a pint and yet thinks it no sin
When he do bring it in, the measure is short
And the top of your pint is all covered in froth
Honesty's all out of fashion
These are the rigs of the time
Time, me boys
These are the rigs of the time
And here's to the butcher, I must bring him in
Charges four pence a pound and yet thinks it no sin
Slaps his thumb on the scales and he makes it go down
He declares it's a full weight yet it lacks half a pound
Honesty's all out of fashion
These are the rigs of the time
Time, me boys
These are the rigs of the time
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