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Christy Moore – Beeswing

Исполнители: Christy Moore
Альбомы: Christy Moore – Christy Moore - Burning Times
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Текст Christy Moore – Beeswing

Текст:

I was 18 when I came to town they called it the summer of love
Burning babies burning flags the hawks against the doves
I took a job at the steaming way down on Caltrim St.
Fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin’ next to me

Brown hair zig zagged around her face and a look of half surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights there was animal in her eyes
She said to me, can’t you see, I’m not the factory kind
If you don’t take me out of here, I’ll lose my mind

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, she was runnin’ wild (she said)
So long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay
You wouldn’t want me any other way

We busked around the market towns fruit pickin’, down in Kent
We could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went
We were campin’ down the Gower and the work was mighty good
She wouldn’t wait for the harvest, I thought we should

I said to her, we’ll settle down, get a few acres dug
A fire burning in the hearth and babies on the rug
She said, oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell
You might be lord of half the world, you’ll not own me as well

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, she was runnin’ wild (she said)
So long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay
You wouldn’t want me any other way

We were drinking more in those days, our tempers reached a pitch
Like a fool I let her run away when she took the rambling itch
And the last I heard she was living rough back on the Derby beat
A bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a Wolfhound at her feet

They say that she got married once to a man called Romany Brown
Even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin’ down
They say her rose has faded, rough weather and hard booze
Maybe that’s the price you pay for the chains that you refuse

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing
I miss her more than ever words can say
If I could just taste all of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
I wouldn’t want her any other way

If I could hold her in my arms today
I wouldn’t want her any other way

Альбом

Christy Moore – Christy Moore - Burning Times