album cover
Beeswing
album cover
Beeswing fue publicado el 1 de abril de 2013 por Open the Door for Three como parte del álbum Open the Door for Three
1 de abril de 2013
SelloOpen the Door for Three
IdiomaEnglish
BPM101
Melodicidad
Acústico
Valence
Bailabilidad
Energía

Letras

Well I was nineteen when I came to town
They call it the summer of love
They were burning babies, burning flags
The hawks against the doves
I took a job in a steamy
Down in Condron Street
I fell in love with a laundry girl
Who was working next to me
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 running wild
She says as long as there's no price on love I'll stay
And I wouldn't want her any other way
Brown her zigzag brown
Her face a look of half surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights
There was animal in her eyes
She says young man can't you see
I am not the factory kind
And if you don't take me out of here
I'll surely lose my mind
She was a rare thing
Fine as a bee's wing
So fine that I might crush her where she lay
She was a lost child
She was running wild
She says as long as there's no price on love I'll stay
And you wouldn't want me any other way
Well we bused around the market towns
We picked fruit down in Kent
And we could take our lamps and pots
And nice wherever we went
I said that we might settle down
Get a few acres dug
Fire burning in the hearth
And babies on the rug
She says oh man you foolish man
That surely sounds like hell
Well you might be lord of half the world
But 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 running wild
She says as long as there's no price on love I'll stay
And you wouldn't want me any other way
We was camping down the Gower one time
The work was pretty good
She thought we shouldn't wait for the frost
I thought maybe we should
We was drinking more in those days
And tempers reached a pitch
Like a fool I let her run
With that rambling itch
That the last I heard she's sleeping rough
Back in the Derby beats
White horse in her hip pockets
And a wolf hound at her feet
And they say she even married once
A man named Romany Brown
But even a gypsy's caravan
Was too much settling down
And they say her flower's faded now
Hard weather and hard booze
But maybe it's just the price you pay
For the change you refuse
She was a rare thing
Fine as a bee's wing
And I miss her more than ever words could say
If I could just taste
All of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
Well I wouldn't want her any other way
Written by: Richard Thompson
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