Last year's troubles are so old fashioned

The robber on the highway the pirate on the seas

Maybe it's the clothing that's so entertaining

The earrings and swashbuckling blouses that please

Here we have heroes of times that have passed now

But nobody these days has that kind of chin

Over there the petticoats of ladies of virtue

You can hardly tell them from the petticoats of sin

Last year's troubles

Look at all the waifs of Dickensian England

Why is it their suffering is more picturesque?

Must be cause their rags are so very Victorian

The ones here at home just don't give it their best

Last years troubles they shine up so pretty

They gleam with a luster they don't have today

Here it's just dirty and violent and troubling

Last year's troubles

But trouble is still trouble and evil still evil

Sometimes we wonder; is there more now, or less?

If we had a tool or could tally the handfuls

Measure for measure it's the same would be my guess