كلمات As The Evening Declines

I am old, very old, but I don't need a wattle I am old, yes, I'm old, but I'm not a dry nettle All I need is man who is high in his mettle Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines And before the black hunger, I'd husbands in plenty Maybe your granddad was one of the many Or was he that red-coat who swigged more than any? Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines You can have all your gold, the high king of all metals With soft talk and kisses we'll never want better And the west of a ditch is the best of all settles Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines I am old, very old, but I don't need a wattle I am old, yes, I'm old, but I'm not a dry nettle So you clout the pot, and I'll clout the kettle Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines