Correction Lyrics Pumped Up Kicks by Hildegard von Blingin’

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Lyrics

Robert hath a swift hand
He doth gaze upon the fyrd, and he maketh a plan
And he hath a jaunty cap
Perched upon his head, he is a longbowman
He did find an old bow of yew
And a quiver of arrows in his father’s chest
Wherefore I cannot say
But he cometh for thee, yea he cometh for thee

Father worketh all day
And he cometh home late, yea he cometh home late
Mayhaps he bringeth me a gift
Stew is in the pot though it doth taste of grit
I have waited e're long
Now mine eye is quick and mine arm is strong
I reason with my crooked cap
And say "Thou art an artless, greasy tallow-catch," yea

All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, outrun my bow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, faster than mine arrow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, outrun my bow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, faster than mine arrow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, outrun my bow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, faster than mine arrow

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