OTHO
The Miller’s Son
Father is the miller
As his father was of old,
And I shall be the miller
When my father’s flesh is cold.
I know the family business –
It’s been drummed into my head:
Hoe to cheat the hungry customer
And earn my daily bread.
Oh, God makes the water, and the water makes the river,
And the river turns the mill wheel
and the wheel goes on forever.
Every man’s a cheater and so every man is fed,
For we feed upon each other,
when we seek our daily bread.
My father is a hard man,
Muscular and stout.
He swings a heavy cudgel
Whenever her walks out.
My grandfather was like him
A man if gain and sin:
They found him in the millpond
With his skull bashed in.
Oh, God made the water, and the water makes the river,
And the river turns the mill wheel
and the wheel goes on forever.
I used to wonder why the peasants hated us so strong.
They think we pick their pockets –
and they’re not far wrong.
Flour in the flour sack,
Vermin in the flour.
Peasants waiting by the mill,
Hour after hour –
They curse us as they stand in line,
Enjoy their little talk.
My father grinds their flour
And replaces it with chalk.
Oh, God makes the water, and the water makes the river,
And the river turns the mill wheel
and the wheel goes on forever.
When you think about the matter,
it’s as good as any sermon,
For the villain feed the miller,
and the miller feeds the vermin.
When I was only four years old,
Still babyish and unsteady,
I tried to play with common folk –
They hated me already.
They knew I was my father’s son –
My father serves the lord.
One day I’ll show them hating me
‘S a thing they can’t afford.
Oh, God makes the water, and the water makes the river,
And the river turns the mill wheel
and the wheel goes on forever.
There’s no use in looking back,
for here’s the truth I’ve found:
It’s hunger, want, and wickedness
that makes the world go ‘round.
For every man’s a sinner,
And he wants his neighbor’s grain.
The peasant moves the boundary stone
And steals the lord’s demesne.
The miller steals the flour,
And the baker steals the bread.
We’re hypocrits and liars –
And we all get fed.
And half the world’s a-thieving,
and the other half’s a-crawling.
The Mouth of Hell is gaping wide,
and all of us are falling.
The Judgment Day is close at hand,
the hellfires are burning.
There’s no way to retrace our steps,
the mill wheel’s turning --
For God makes the water, and the water makes the river,
And the river turns the mill wheel
and the wheel goes on forever.
My father used to beat me sore –
I’ve learned that life is grim.
And someday I will have a son – and God help him!