Description
(A double album pressed as a single disc: total running time: 79 minutes)
Acoustic Pop & Folk
ALBUM 1
- Adam At The Window
- Across the Universe
- Cuaichín Ghleann Neifín [The Little Cuckoo of Glen Nefin]
- The Windmills of Your Mind Take This Waltz
[Little Viennese Waltz]
- Éirigh ‘s Cuir Ort Do Chuid Éadaí
[Rise Up & Put On Your Clothes]
- The Curragh of Kildare
- She’s Always a Woman To Me
- Living Inside My Heart
ALBUM 2
- Nansaí ‘Mhíle Grá [Nancy My Thousand Loves]
- The Shades of Gloria
- Ancient Rain
- Being On the 23rd of June
- The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
- Pretty Saro
- It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue
- Black is the Colour
- If It Be Your Will
Adam at the window
© Jimmy McCarthy
Adam’s at the window
Staring at the apple trees on fire
Waiting for the windfall
That brings the smile of kings and their desire
Door blows in behind him
A floral pattern summer dress so gay
Burning in the sunlight
Too late to wait
For darkness won’t delay
To steal her cherry lips away
For while the careless tongues of sunlight
Slowly trickle down
The curve of hips her fingertips
In kissing sips we drown
In kissing sips we drown
Chorus:
And Adam will have his way
Adam will have his way
Adam’s on the island
Living in the land of love
Shadows lurk around him
Drunk on the royal jelly of pure love
Full and ripe the fruit hang
For when the prince arrives he will want more
And more and more he’ll drink from the canvas cup
The son of a swan will then loose his plumera
And he will wear a new age suit
And haunt the joints in town
And play a silver magic flute
And call his lovers down
And call his lovers down
Chorus:
And Adam will have his way
Adam will have his way
Adam’s at the easel
painting in the wrinkles and the grey
Waiting for November
Easy with the darkness of the day
Smiles a tear of gladness
And Adam’s at the window once again
He’s burning in the sunlight, etc
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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Across the Universe
© Lennon/McCartney
Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting through my open mind
Possessing and caressing me
Jai guru deva om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Images of broken light which
dance before me like a million eyes
That call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a
restless wind inside a letter box
they tumble blindly as
they make their way across the universe
Jai guru deva om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open ears
exciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which
shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe
Jai guru deva om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
—————————————————————————–
Cuaichín Ghleann Neifín
(Traditional)
Ó éireoidh mé amárach le fáinne an lae ghlé ghil
Agus déanfaidh mé mo dhea-rás amach faoi na sléibhte
Agus fágfaidh mé mo bheannacht ag mná deasa an tsaoil seo
Agus dheamhan an pilleadh abhaile domh go labhraí an chuach i mbarr na gcraobh ann.
Tá mo ghrá mar bhláth na n-airní a bíos a’ fás i dtús a’ tsamhraidh
Nó mar nóiníní bána a bíos ag snámh insna gleannta
Nó mar a bheadh grian os cionn Carna insan tsráid ag gabháil síos domh
Is mar siúd a bíos mo ghrá bán ag déanamh rámhailte trí m’intinn.
Nach aoibhinn don áiléar a mbíonn mo ghrá geal ag gabháil air
Nach aoibhinn don talamh a shiúlann a bróg air
Nach ró-aoibhinn don óigfhear a gheobhas mo stóirín le pósadh
‘Sí réalteolais na maid’ne í agus drúcht an tráthnóna.
The Little Cuckoo of Glen Nefin
© Translation S. Ó Dochartaigh
O I will arise tomorrow at the dawn of the bright day
And make my passion-dash out to the mountains
And heap all my blessings on the fair women of the world
And the devil take me if I return before the cuckoo-call of first foliage.
The blossom of the sloe is like my own true love
It does be in full flower at the start of summer
She’s also like the little white daisies swimming in the deep glen –
It’s just like that my love puts my mind in a whirl.
Isn’t it pleasant for the boards where she treads her dear feet?
Isn’t it pleasant for the ground that graces her delicate shoe?
But isn’t even more pleasant for that young man who wins her hand in marriage?
She’s the star of knowledge of morning and the sweet dew of evening!
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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The Windmills of Your Mind
© Legrand, Bergman, Bergman
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
Never-ending or beginning on an ever-spinning reel;
Like a snowball down a mountain or a carnival balloon,
Like a carousel that’s turning running rings around the moon,
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face,
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space –
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.
Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own,
Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone;
Like a door that keeps revolving in a half-forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream,
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face,
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space –
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.
Keys that jingle in your pocket; words that jangle in your head.
Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that I said?
Lovers walk along the shore and leave their footprints in the sand.
Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragments of a song;
Half-remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning to the colour of her hair?
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
Never-ending or beginning on an ever-spinning reel;
As the images unwind like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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Take This Waltz (Little Viennese Waltz)
© Leonard Cohen / Garcia Lorca
Now in Vienna there’s ten pretty women.
There’s a shoulder where death comes to cry.
There’s a lobby with nine hundred windows.
There’s a tree where the doves go to die.
There’s a piece that was torn from the morning,
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws.
O I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine.
In the cave at the tip of the lily,
In some hallway where love’s never been.
On a bed where the moon has been sweating,
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Ay ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
Take its broken waist in your hand.
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and death,
Dragging its tail in the sea.
There’s a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews.
There’s a bar where the boys have stopped talking,
They’ve been sentenced to death by the blues.
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
Take this waltz, it’s been dying for years.
There’s an attic where children are playing,
Where I’ve got to lie down with you soon,
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns,
In the mist of some sweet afternoon.
And I’ll see what you’ve chained to your sorrow,
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Ay, ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its “I’ll never forget you, you know!”
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and death,
Dragging its tail in the sea.
And I’ll dance with you in Vienna,
I’ll be wearing a river’s disguise.
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder
my mouth on the dew of your thighs.
And I’ll bury my soul in a scrap book
with the photographs there and the moss.
And I’ll yield to the flood of your beauty,
my cheap violin and my cross.
And you’ll carry me down on your dancing
to the pools that you lift on your wrist —
O my love, o my love,
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
it’s yours now. It’s all that there is.
La la la…etc
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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Éirigh ‘s Cuir Ort Do Chuid Éadaigh
(Traditional)
Éirigh ‘s cuir ort do chuid éadaigh
Go mbearraidh mé féin do chúl
Go dtéidh muid soir Easbog na hÉirne
Go gceangaltar mé ‘gus tú
Tá grá ‘gus cion agam féin ort
A chuid den tsaoghal éaluigh liom
‘S nach daoiní dona gan chéill óró
‘Sgarfadh ó chéile sinn.
Aisling a chonnaic mé ‘réir
Ar mo leabaidh ‘gus mé ‘mo luighe
Go dtáinig sí chugam mar fhéirín
Ainnir na gciabh-fholt buidhe
Bhí a h-ór-fholt snoighte go féar léi
‘S níl tuile ‘a mhéid nach gclaoidhfeadh
Ó’s a Rí cé’r mhisde den chléir é
Go gcodlochainn aréir le mnaoi.
‘S truaigh gan mise ‘s an niamh bheag
Na léice mílte ó chuan
I n-oileán a’ Chlochair Bhig Chraobhaigh
Mar ‘thuiteas na néallta ‘un suain
An áit a mbíonn nead ag an éanlaith
An t-iolar, a’ ghéag ‘s a’ chuach
Is go gcuirfinn-se geasa ‘r an éan bheag
Solas a’ lae ‘thabhairt uainn
Nuair a théim-se chun aifrinn Dé Domhnaigh
‘Sé d’fhiafraigheas na stócaigh díom
“A Chormaic, an bhfuil tusa pósta
Nó an aithnigheann tú d’óige a chlaoidh?”
‘Sé dúirt mé ‘s deirim féin leobhtha
Go n-aithnighim go mór, faraor
Is a’ méid agaibh atá gan phósadh
Is agaibh tá spórt an tsaoghail
Cúradh mo chroí ar a’ phósadh
Is ar bhuachaillí óg’ an tsaoghail
Is go mb’ fhearr daobhtha cailín beag óg deas
Ná bean is na puntaí léi
An oíche mhór fhada sa gheimhreadh
Nár dheas a bheith súgradh léi
Is neamh-ionann ‘s an chailleach bhuidhe ‘ srannfaigh
Is í ‘tarraingt an phlaincéid léi!
Éirigh ‘s cuir ort do chuid éadaigh
Go mbearraidh mé féin do chúl
Go dtéidh muid soir Easbog na hÉirne
Go gceangaltar mé ‘gus tú
Tá grá ‘gus cion agam féin ort
A chuid den tsaoghal éaluigh liom
‘S nach daoiní dona gan chéill óró
‘Sgarfadh ó chéile sinn.
Rise Up and Put on Your Clothes
© Translation S. Ó Dochartaigh
Rise up and put on your clothes and I’ll trim your hair
And we’ll go over to the Bishop of Erne
To make the bans between me and you.
I love you more than words can tell,
My joy of the world! Won’t you elope with me?
But there’s bad folk, folk without sense,
Trying to pull us apart.
A vision appeared to me last night in bed as I lay asleep.
That she came to me as a gift
That maid of the golden tresses
Her hair fell in coils on the grass at her feet
In floods and filigree that wouldn’t stay put
O King! I wouldn’t give a rap for the clergy
If I slept last night with such a maid!
It’s a pity that me and my little radiance
Can’t be in some stony retreat miles from harbour
In the island of the little branchy stone fort
As the clouds fall asleep
Where there are nests for the wild fowl, the eagle, its chicks and the cuckoo.
I would put a spell on the little bird
To take the light of day away from us.
When I go to mass of a Sunday the lads all corner me and ask:
“Cormac, are you married yet,
Or do you feel that your youth is depleting?”
I answer them simply by saying:
“I feel that greatly, alas.
Those of you who aren’t married
Enjoy the pleasures of the world.”
Marriage is the bane of my life
And likewise the boys of the world
That they would prefer a pretty young girl
To a woman of substance
During the big long winter’s nights
Wouldn’t it be nice to be cuddling in there?
Not the same as the yellow hag
Snoring and pulling the blanket into her.
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
—————————————————————————–
The Curragh of Kildare
(Traditional)
The winter it is past and the summer’s come at last
And the small birds are singing in the trees
Their little hearts are glad but mine is very sad
Since my true love is far away from me
And straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare
For ‘tis there I’ll find tidings of my dear
The rose upon the briar and the waters running clear
It brings joy to the linnet and the bee
Their little hearts are blessed but mine can know no rest
Since my true love is far away from me
And straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare
For ‘tis there I’ll find tidings of my dear
A livery I’ll wear and I’ll comb back my hair
And in velvet so green I will appear
And straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare
For ‘tis there I’ll find tidings of my dear
Oh you who are in love and cannot it remove
I pity the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know that your hearts are full of woe
A woe that no mortal can cure.
And straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare
For ‘tis there I’ll find tidings of my dear
—————————————————————————
She’s Always A Woman To Me
© Billy Joel
She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes,
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child but she’s always a woman to me.
She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you,
She can ask for the truth but she’ll never believe you,
And she’ll take what you give her as long as it’s free,
Yes, she steals like a thief but she’s always a woman to me.
Oh, she takes care of herself,
She can wait if she wants, she’s ahead of her time,
Oh, and she never gives out and never gives in,
She just changes her mind.
And she’ll promise you more than the Garden of Eden,
Then she’ll carelessly cut you and laugh while you’re bleedin’
She’ll bring out the best and the worst you can be, Blame it all on yourself ‘cause she’s always a woman to me.
Mmmm….
Oh, she takes care of herself,
She can wait if she wants, she’s ahead of her time,
Oh, and she never gives out and never gives in,
She just changes her mind
She’s frequently kind and she’s suddenly cool,
She can do as she pleases, she’s nobody’s fool,
She can’t be convicted, she’s earned her degree
And the most she can do is throw shadows at you
…but she’s always a woman to me.
Mmmm….
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
—————————————————————————
Living Inside My Heart
© Bob Seger
When the sun came up this morning
And she smiled her smile for me
I felt it for the first time
Something deep inside of me
So you can take your midnight ramblin’, boy,
And you can keep your winding roads.
She’s living inside my heart now,
Living inside.
Living inside my heart now,
Living inside.
Oh, there’s an easiness about her,
And there’s a softness in her ways;
But she gets me through the hard times;
We get closer every day.
I know I’ll never live alone now, boy,
‘Cause even if I’m far away
She’s living inside my heart now,
Living inside.
Living inside my heart now,
Living inside.
And I don’t know what I did to deserve her,
But I tell you this, my friend,
I’m never gonna loose her, never gonna loose her,
‘Cause every night…
She’s living inside my heart now,
Living inside.
Living inside my heart now,
Living inside.
Oh, and I’d never believe it
How much someone had come to mean to me
Inside my heart, inside my heart,
Inside my heart, inside my heart,
Inside my heart, inside my heart,
Inside my heart, inside my heart.
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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A Nansaí ‘Mhíle Grá
(Traditional)
A Nansaí, ‘mhíle grá, a bhruinneal ‘tá gan smál
Go bhfeice mise an t-ádh ‘gus an séan ort
Ba ghile do dhá lámh ná cubhar geal na trá
Ná an eala ‘s í ag snámh ar an Éirne
Ba ghlaise liom do shúil ná braon beag den drúcht
‘S ba bhinne liom-sa thú ná na téadaí
Mura n-éalóidh tusa liom-sa, titfidh mise i lionndubh
Is cuirfear insa chill i do dhiaidh mé.
Is iomaidh sin guth mná a chluinim ins gach áird
I bhfus agus taobh thall den Éirne
Ó Chorcaigh na gCuan ‘s go Béal Átha na Sluaighe
‘S í Nansaí ‘thug buaidh ar an mhéid sin
A Mhuire ‘gus a Dhia, nárbh aoibhinn é ár saol!
Dá mbéinn-se ‘gus í le chéile
Tráthnóna aoibhinn ciúin – Ó mise ‘gus mo rún!
Ag cogarnaigh ar uaigneas sléibhe.
Beir litir uaim-sa suas chuig Nansaí chaoin na gcuach
Is aithris dí gur buartha atá mé
Aithris aríst nach gcodhlaím féin aon oíche
Le harraing atá fríd mo thaobh dheis
Aithris dá súil, aithris dá cúl
Aithris dá méin mhaith chéillí
Aithris dá ceann is dá béilín ‘tá binn
‘S gur ghiorraigh sí go cinnte mo laetha.
Nancy, My Thousand Loves
© Translation S. Ó Dochartaigh
Nancy, my thousand loves, o damsel without blemish!
I bestow upon you good luck and prosperity!
Your two arms are whiter than the white foam of the waves,
And whiter than the swan as she swims on Lough Erne
Your eyes are greener to me than (light shining through) a tiny drop of dew
Sweeter to me you are than the (sound of harp) strings.
If you don’t elope with me, I’ll fall to the black beer
And I’ll be put in my grave in your wake.
It’s many a woman’s voice I hear in every place,
Far and near and on the other side of Lough Erne.
From Cork of the Harbours to Ballinasloe,
Nancy is the one who tops them all.
O Mary, O God! Wouldn’t our life be simply bliss!
If she and I could be together – a quiet pleasant evening,
Me and my heart’s desire, whispering on the loneliness of the mountain.
Take a letter to gentle Nancy of the Loves
And recite to her that I am deep in sorrow
Recite to her again that I get no sleep at night
With arrows piercing sharply through my left side
Recite it to her eyes, recite it to her curls,
Recite it to her brilliant mind so full of wisdom,
Recite it to her head, to her little mouth so calm,
That she has diminished my days for certain.
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
—————————————————————————
The Shades of Gloria
© Gerry O’Beirne
I am going to the country
Going down that verdant lane
With nothing but a whistle in my hand
And a pocket full of rain
Can you hear that distant sound
Coming down the West Clare railway
Running with the shades of Gloria
The wind is full of memories
That murmur and sigh
Hills lie in the foaming grass of Clare
Below the cold moon’s eye
But you should come and see them now
When they are on fire
And running with the shades of Gloria
And the waves roll at the headland
When the tide is rising there
And here there is starlight falling
Down on the hills of Clare
I knew them when I was hungry
And I knew when I was scared
To go running with the shades of Gloria
And I am going to the country
Where Miko in his prime
Weaves a thread of melody
In his own sweet time
You can hear him sing and whistle
Anytime you care
To go running with the shades of Gloria
I am going to the country
Going down that verdant lane
With nothing but a whistle in my hand
And a pocket full of rain
Can you hear that distant sound
Coming down the West Clare railway
Running with the shades of Gloria…
Gloria
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
—————————————————————————
Ancient Rain
© Jimmy McCarthy
Summer time is almost gone
And every clock an hour put on
Last night we danced and merry made
Under the full moon madness played
An older witch danced with me
Later she sat on my knee
A fiddler flashed his fiddler’s grin
To hell and back from lock to chin
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
The witch was clean pushed of my knee
By one born one day after me
We went home with lock and key
She left me in the morning
I slept on till one o’clock
My head felt like a concrete block
I drank some whiskey and I drank it hot
On the first day of winter
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
The demons taunt in pagan times
The past and present now in rhyme
Two hands that squeezed my life away
On this the holy All-Saints Day
I slept on till one o’clock
My head felt like a concrete block
I drank some whiskey and I drank it hot
On the first day of winter
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
Ancient rain, pouring down,
Wipe my bones to the ground
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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Being on the 23rd of June
(Traditional)
Being on the 23rd of June
As I sat weaving all on my loom [x2]
I heard a thrush singing in yon bush
And the song he sang was the Jug of Punch.
La di da da di etc.
What more diversion can a man desire
Than to court a girl by a neat turf fire [x2]
Upon his knee
a pretty wench
Aye, and on the table a Jug of Punch
La di da da di etc.
Well if I get drunk, well my money’s my own
And them don’t like me just leave me alone [x2]
I’ll tune me fiddle and I’ll rosin’ me bow
Aye and I’ll be welcome where e’er I go.
La di da da di etc.
When I am dead, aye and in my grave
No costly tombstone will I crave [x2]
Just lay me down in my native peat
With a jug of punch at my head and feet.
La di da da di etc.
When I am dead and left in my mould
At my head and feet place a flowing bowl [x2]
And every young man that passes by
He shall have a drink and remember I.
La di da da di etc.
Being on the 23rd of June
As I sat weaving all on my loom [x2]
I heard a thrush singing in yon bush
And the song he sang was the Jug of Punch.
La di da da di etc.
—————————————————————————
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
© Ewan McColl
The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love,
To the dark and the endless skies
And the first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hands
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love,
That was there at my command
And the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine
And I knew our joy would fill the air
And t’would last till the end of time, my love,
And t’would last till the end of time
And the first time ever I saw your face… your face…
your face… your face… your face…
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
—————————————————————————
Pretty Saro
(Traditional)
Down in some lone valley
In a lonesome place
Where the wild birds do whistle
Their notes do increase
Farewell, Pretty Saro,
I’ll bid you adieu
But I’ll dream of my darlin’
Wherever I go.
Your parents don’t like me
So I understand
They want a freeholder
And I have no land
I cannot maintain you
On silver and gold
Nor buy all the fine things
That a big house can hold
Farewell to my father
And my old mother too
I’m goin’ to ramble
This country all through
And when I get tired
I’ll sit down and weep
And I’ll dream of my darlin’
Pretty Saro, my sweet
It’s not the long journey
I’m dreadin’ to go
Nor leavin’ this country
For debts that I owe
There’s nothin’ that grieves me
Nor troubles my mind
Like leaving my darlin’
Pretty Saro behind
If I were a merchant
And could write a fine hand
I’d write a love letter
So she’d understand
But I’ll travel down the river
Where the waters do flow
And I’ll dream of Pretty Saro
Wherever I go.
—————————————————————————
It’s all over now, Baby Blue
© Bob Dylan
You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun
Crying like a fire in the sun
Look out there the saints are comin’ through
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.
The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense
Take what you have gathered from coincidence
The empty handed painter from your streets
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets
The sky, too, is folding under you
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.
All your seasick sailors, they’re all rowing home
Your empty-handed armies, they’re all going home
Your lover who just walked out the door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.
Leave your stepping stones behind, there’s something that calls for you
Forget the dead you’ve left, they will not follow you
The vagabond who’s rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore
Strike another match, go start a new
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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Black is the Colour
(Traditional)
Black is the colour of my true love’s hair
Her face is something wondrous fair
The clearest eyes and the dearest hands
I love the ground where on she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the grass where on she goes
And still I hope the time will come
When she and I will be as one
Black is the colour of my true love’s hair
Her face is something wondrous fair
The clearest eyes and the dearest hands
I love the ground where on she stands
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If It Be Your Will
© Leonard Cohen
If it be your will
That I speak no more,
And my voice be still
As it was before;
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for,
If it be your will.
If it be your will
That a voice be true,
From this broken hill
I will sing to you.
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing…
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing.
If it be your will,
If there is a choice,
Let the rivers fill,
Let the hills rejoice.
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell,
If it be your will
To make us well.
And draw us near
And bind us tight,
All your children here
In their rags of light;
In our rags of light,
All dressed to kill;
And end this night,
If it be your will.
All rights reserved. Lyrics used by permission.
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