The robber on the highway the pirate on the seas
Last year's troubles
Measure for measure it's the same would be my guess
Last years troubles they shine up so prettily
Why is it their suffering is more picturesque?
The ones here at home just don't give it their best
Last year's troubles
Sometimes we wonder is there more now, or less?
Trouble is still trouble and evil still evil
'Cause here it's just dirty and violent and troubling
Must because their rags are so very Victorian
The earrings and swashbuckling blouses that please
You can hardly tell them from the petticoats of sin
Last year's troubles
Last year's troubles
Last year's troubles
If we had a tool or could tally the handfulls
Maybe it's the clothing that's so entertaining
Last year's troubles
Look at all the waifs of Dickensian England
They gleam with a luster, they don't have today
Last year's troubles
But nobody these days has that kind of chin
Last year's troubles are so old fashioned
Extra
Here we have heroes of times that have passed now
Over there the petticoats of ladies of virtue
