Κορυφαία τραγούδια από Eleanor Tomlinson
Συντελεστές
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Eleanor Tomlinson
Vocals
Paul Dunne
Guitar
Andy Pask
Bass
Skaila Kanga
Harp
Paul Clarvis
Percussion
Anne Dudley
Conductor
Ed Cervenka
Dulcimer
Eddie Hession
Accordion
Roger Dudley
Ukulele
Ross Tomlinson
Background Vocals
The Chamber Orchestra of London
Orchestra
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anne Dudley
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Anne Dudley
Producer
Roger Dudley
Mixing Engineer
Liam Toner
Executive Producer
Mat Bartram
Recording Engineer
Fluid Mastering
Mastering Engineer
Στίχοι
"Well met, well met, my own true love
Well met, well met," cried he
"I've just returned from the salt, salt sea
All for the love of thee"
"I could have married the King's daughter dear
She would have married me
But I have forsaken her crowns of gold
All for the love of thee"
"If you could have married the King's daughter dear,
I'm sure you are to blame
For I am married to a house carpenter
And he is a fine young man"
"Oh, will you forsake your house carpenter
And come away with me?
I'll take you to where the grass grows green
To the banks of the salt, salt sea"
"Well, if I should forsake my house carpenter
And go away with thee
What have you got to maintain me on
And keep me from poverty?"
"I've six ships, sailing on the sold, sold sea
Seven more upon dry land
One hundred and ten all brave sailor men
Will be at your command"
She picked up her own wee babe
And kisses gave him three
Said, "Stay right here with my house carpenter
And keep him good company"
Well, they'd not been gone but about two weeks
I'm sure it was not three
When this poor maid began to weep
She wept most bitterly
"Oh, why do you weep, my fair young maid?
Weep for your golden store?
Or do you weep for your house carpenter
That never you shall see anymore?"
"I do not weep for my house carpenter
Nor for any golden store
But I do weep for my poor wee babe
That never I shall see anymore"
They'd not been gone but about three weeks
I'm sure it was not four
Our gallant ship sprang a leak and sank
Never to rise anymore
"What hills, what hills are those, my love
That rise so far and high?"
"Those are the hills of heaven, my love
But not for you and I"
"What hills, what hills are those, my love
That sink so dark and low?"
"Those are the hills of hell, my love
Where you and I must go"
Writer(s): Deborah Cox, Errol Thompson, Mcshee, Renbourn, Jansch
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