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I don't know if you can see the changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid that I might drift away
So I've been telling old stories, singing songs that make me think about where I came from
And that's the reason why I seem so far away today
Ah but let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had
I have moved and kept on moving proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing found others on the way
I have tried and I've kept on trying stolen dreams, yes there's no denying*
I have travelled hard, sometimes with conscience flying somewhere in the wind
Now I'm sitting here before the fire, the empty room, the forest choir
The flames that couldn't get any higher they've withered, now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear and I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands have shaken and the kisses flow Oh I will disappear
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Just tell me what you've got to say to me
I've been waiting for so long to hear the truth
It comes as no surprise at all you see
So cut the crap and tell me that we're through
Now I know your heart, I know your mind
You don't even know you're being unkind
So much for how your highbrow Marxist ways
Just use me up and then you walk away
Boy you can't play me that way
Well I guess what you say is true
I could never be the right kind of girl for you
I could never be your woman
I could never be your woman
I could never be your woman
I could never be your woman
When I saw my best friend yesterday
She said she never liked you from the start
Well me, I wish that I could claim the same
But you always knew you held my heart
Your such a charming hansome man
Now I think I finally understand
Is it in your genes? I don't know
But I'll soon find out, that's for sure
Why did you play me this way?
Well I guess what you say is true
I could never be the right knid of girl for you
I could never be your woman
I could never be your woman
I could never be your woman
I could never be your woman
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Near to Banbridge Town, in the County Down
One morning last July,
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen,
And she smiled as she passed me by;
Well, she looked so sweet from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair;
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself
To make sure I was really there. From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
That I met in the County Down. As she onward sped, sure I shook my head
And I looked with a feeling rare.
Then I said, says I, to a passer-by,
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
Well, he smiled at me, and with pride says he,
"That's the gem of old Ireland's crown,
She's young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down." Well I've traveled a bit, but ne'er was hit
Since my roving career began;
Then fair and square I surrendered there
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
I'd a heart to let and no tenant yet
Did I see in shawl or gown,
But in she went and I asked no rent
From the Star of the County Down. At the harvest fair, I'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shone bright, and my hat cocked right
For a smile from my nut-brown Rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, and no horse I'll yoke
Though with rust my plow turns brown,
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down |
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Current Mood: Crazy Guitaric |
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The school Christmas party is coming
We ain’t doing rugby no more
McIntyre’s teaching us waltzing
Out on the gymnasium floor
Out on the gymnasium floor
McIntyre’s out of the Army
You’ll be slippered if you get it wrong
McIntyre’s din, booms loud in the gym
And, we’ve only got our little shorts on
We’ve only got our little shorts on
And its 1-2-3, 2-2 we’re all a disgrace
McIntyre tore us apart
And we danced by ourselves,
When, we’d all found a space
Waltzing with fear in our hearts
Waltzing with fear in our hearts,
Comes the day of the final manoeuvres
All of our heads are a whirl
It’s getting much closer to D day
This time we’re going to do it with girls
This time we’re going to do it with girls
In the arena the ladies were waiting
A twelve year old partner to guide
Some matches were fixed, the rest of us mixed
And a fat girl got left at the side
A fat girl got left at the side.
And its 1-2-3 2-2 we’re all a disgrace
McIntyre tore us apart
And we danced by ourselves,
When, we’d all found a space
Waltzing with fear in our hearts
Waltzing with fear in our hearts
When you come to my fights, and I am under the lights
And you see that my footwork is false
Don’t count me out, at the start of the bout
I’m just doing the secondary waltz
Doing, the secondary waltz.
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DSB
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Sep. 12th, 2007 @ 09:31 pm
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Had me a woman down in Tennessee
Boy she used to love me
Free fever got me and I had to go
I never seen that woman no more
New York City is a place I been
I was there one time with a travellin' band
Young girl there wanted me to stay
I think she wanted me to pay
Roll it out, roll it in
Here we go down the road again
Drifters life is a drifters wife
Don't say I didn't tell you so
Travellin' man now he don't know
Only what he hears on the radio
Politics and money don't bother him
Only good lookin' women and a bottle of gin
Portland, Oregon, to the Mexican line
Boy let me tell you the women are fine
If you don't hang around there very long
They'll never ever know you're gone |
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Harpa
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Aug. 20th, 2007 @ 10:30 pm
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Harpa
Der bodde en bonde ved en strand,
harpa toner var og fin.
To fagre døtre hadde han.
Fa la la la la la la la la la.
Den eldste til den yngre sa:
la oss ned til elven dra.
Den yngste gikk føre som en sol,
den eldste etter som orm i jord.
Den yngste satte seg pá en stein,
den eldste dyttet, hun var ikke sein.
Hun strakte ut sin hvite hand,
og ropte søster hjelp meg iland.
Hvis jeg ikke hjelper deg,
sá vil din kjæreste ekte meg.
Det var to gjetere pá den strand
og de sá liket som fløt i land.
De tok fra hennes kropp et ben,
og lagde av det en harpe ven.
De tok tre lokker av hennes hár,
og harpa gyldne strenger fár.
Til søsterens bryllup ble harpa bragt,
og pá en stubbe der ble den lagt.
Det var senere pá denne kveld
at harpa spilte av seg selv.
Da den første strengen lød,
den fortalte om brudens onde dád.
Da den andre strengen slo,
bruden som forstenet sto.Current Mood:  sad |
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