> Folk Music > Songs > Boxing Day

Boxing Day

[ Roud - ; Mudcat 170665 ; Robb Johnson]

Robb Johson sang his song Boxing Day on the 1990 artists for animals album on Agit-Prop Records, The Sporting Life?.

Roy Bailey sang Boxing Day in 1991 on his Fuse album Never Leave a Story Unsung and in 1994 on the Band of Hope CD Rhythm & Reds.

A Winter Union sang Boxing Day live at Otford Memorial Hall, Kent on 21 December 2018. This concert’s recording was released in the following year on their CD Live in Concert. They also recorded it on their 2023 album Sooner After Solstice.

Melrose Quartet sang Boxing Day on their 2019 album The Rudolph Variations.

Lyrics

Melrose Quartet sing Boxing Day

When I sit down at my table,
Clasp my hands and bow my head,
Should I thank my heavenly landlord
For my daily crust of bread?
When the hunters in his stable
And the hounds in his pack,
Get the pickings of the harvest
On which I break my back.

There’s a fence around the common land,
Put there by the law.
It’s called hunting if you’re gentry
But it’s poaching if you’re poor.
And the law forgives your trespass
Like the hounds forgive the fox,
You must number all your blessings
With the ha’pence in your box.

Chorus (after each verse):
And it feels like winter spit to eat and hell to pay,
It feels like Reynardine on Boxing Day.
It feels like winter spit to eat and hell to pay,
It feels like Reynardine on Boxing Day.

Now the forest is a shipwreck
And the field is full of stone,
It’s hard to find a blade of grass
Some bastard doesn’t own.
And they stopped the earth up for us
And they drove us into town;
Now they say there’s no work for us
And they’ve closed the factory down.

They’re still meeting in the country
For the hunt and for the course,
You can join the bloody gentry
If you can afford a bleedin’ horse.
And we raid along the railway
And we pray we don’t get caught,
God damn you merry gentlefolk
For your money and your sport.

When I sit down at my table,
Clasp my hands and bow my head,
Should I thank my heavenly landlord
For my daily crust of bread?
For the whip and hand that feeds us
And keeps us in our place,
One day we’ll turn and wipe the smile
Clean off your bloody face.