Dreadnoughts, The - The Cider Drinker Marches On Lyrics






When Eve was in the garden
She plucked an apple fair
She pressed it into cider
And gave her mate his share
Then anger split the heavens
And they walked away in shame
And still I sit in exile
No scrumpy to my name

The night 'tis dark before the dawn
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on

And the dogs of prohibition
Their voices dark and shrill
Denied our ancient birthright
And torched the cider mills
They banished from the new world
What belongs to you and me
Oh, the juice of nature's apples
From the finest of her trees

From Adge Cutler,
And The Wurzels
To the mighty Jamer Ford.
We trace this noble heritage
To the Glastonbury Tor
Now some may fight for silver
And some may fight for land
For scrumpy's sake, the cider punk
He makes his final stand

The night 'tis dark before the dawn
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on

(Oi!)
(A-ha-ha!)

So come you lads and lasses
Put down that wretched brew
The Strongbow growers at Bulmers
They're not worthy of you
And seek you real cider
And set aside the rest
Until the day that golden sun
Comes rising in the west

The night 'tis dark before the dawn
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on

Oh where has all the scrumpy gone?
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on
(Oh!)
(Yes!)
(Ha-ha-ha-ha!)
(Cider!)





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Dreadnoughts, The The Cider Drinker Marches On Comments
  1. R.... W....

    ich kann nur sagen einmal gehört und habe es im Blut

  2. W.... 2....

    I fucking love this song. please make a comeback dreadnoughts.

  3. L.... G....

    I can't find the lyrics anywhere, can someone post them?

    L.... G....

    +Larp Gibson When Eve was in the garden,
    She plucked an apple fair.
    She pressed it into Cider,
    And gaver her mate his share.
    Then anger split the heavens,
    And they walked away in shame.
    And still I sit in exile,
    No scrumpy to my name.
    The night tis' dark before the dawn.
    Take heart,
    The lonely Cider drinker marches on!
    And the dogs of prohibition,
    Their voices dark and shrill.
    Denied our ancient birth-right,
    And torched the Cider mills.
    They banished from the new world,
    What belongs to you and me.
    The drinks of nature's apples,
    from the finest of her trees.
    From Ash Cuttler,
    and the (inaudible),
    to the mighty Jamer Ford.
    We trace this noble heritage
    to (inaudible) .
    Now some may fight for silver,
    And some may fight for land.
    For scrumpy's sake,
    The Cider punk makes his final stand.
    The night tis' dark before the dawn.
    Take heart,
    The Lonely Cider Drinker Marches on.
    (...)
    So come you lads and lasses,
    Put down that wretched broom!
    (inaudible)
    And seek your real cider,
    And set aside the rest.
    Untill the day that golden sun,
    Comes rising in the west.
    The Night tis' dark before the dawn,
    Take heart,
    The lonely Cider drinker marches on.
    Oh where,
    has all the scrumpy gone?
    Take heart,
    The Lonely Cider Drinker Marches on!

    L.... G....

    +Carlos Carranza THANKS!

    L.... G....

    (inaudible 1) = the Wurzels
    (inaudible 2) = the glastonbury tor

  4. J.... H....

    Yes. But not because of the Y. And you're still a bell end.

  5. H.... S....

    Here's to Scrumpy, dry or sweet, and to mighty mighty Somerset. The true bosom of the cyder drinker!

  6. M.... ....

    REAL 100% juice cyder is spelt with a Y! Fly the flag cydernauts all!