THE TREADMILL SONG

(trad.)

Step in, young man, I know your face,
It's nothing in your favour.
A little time I'll give to you:
Six months unto hard labour.

At six o'clock the screw comes in,
A bunch of keys all in his hand.
"Step up, my lads, step up in time,
And tread the wheel till breakfast time."

And at eight o'clock the skilly omes in,
It's sometimes thick and sometimes thin,
And never a word dare we all say,
Or it's bread and water all next day.

At half past eight the bell do ring,
And off to the chapel, boys, we must swing.
Down on our bended knees we fall:
The Lord have mercy on us all!

And at nine o'clock the jangle ring
And all on the trap, boys, we must spring.
Step up, my lads, step up in time,
The wheel's to tread and the corn's to grind.

Now Saturday comes, I'm sad to say,
For Sunday is starvation day.
Our hobnailed boots and our tin mugs, too,
They are not shined and they will not do.

When six long months are gone and past,
Then I'll return to my bonny, bonny lass.
I'll leave the turnkeys all behind,
The wheel to tread and the corn to grind.

From the Steeleye Span record "Storm Force Ten". Mine is ancient (and still on vinyl), so, try as I might, I simply couldn't understand the chorus. Feel free to fill in!

NG