Beeswing – Old Salt: teksty utworów, teledyski i koncerty

Beeswing

15

W trasie

Americana

Utwór Beeswing został wydany 21 czerwca 2019 przez Trad Records jako część albumu Commons

Szczegóły utworu

Data wydania21 czerwca 2019

WytwórniaTrad Records

LanguageEnglish

Melodyjność

Akustyczność

Valence

Taneczność

Energia

BPM109

PRZEGLĄD

TEKST UTWORU

Kredyty

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Old Salt

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Richard Thompson

Richard Thompson

Composer

Dan Wall

Arranger

Tekst Utworu

I was eighteen when I came to town, they call it the summer of love

They were burning babies, burning flags, the hawks against the doves

And I took a job at the steaming way down on Caldron Street

And I fell in love with a laundry girl that was working next to me

Well, brown hair zigzagged 'cross her face and a look of half surprise

And like a fox caught in the headlights, there was animal in her eyes

She said to me, "Well, can't you see I'm not the factory kind?

And if you don't take me out of here, I'll surely lose my mind," oh

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing

Well, so fine a breath of wind might blow her away

She was a lost child, she was running wild

And said, "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay"

And I wouldn't want her any other way

We busked around the market towns, fruit picking down in Kent

We could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went

And we were camping down the Gore one time, the work was mighty good

Well, she wouldn't wait for the harvest, though I, I thought we should

And I said to her, "We'll settle down, we'll get a few acres dug

Well, a fire burning in the hearth and babies on the rug"

She said, "Oh man, you foolish man, that surely sounds like hell

While you might be lord of half this

World, you'll not own me as well," oh

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing

Well, so fine a breath of wind might blow her away

She was a lost child, she was running wild

Said, "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay"

And she wouldn't want me any other way

And I wouldn't want her any other way

We were drinking more in those days, the tempers reached a pitch

Like a fool, I let her run away when she took a rambling itch

And last I heard, she was living rough back on the Derby beat

Well, a bottle of White Horse in her

Pocket and a wolf hound at her feet

And they say that she had gotten married

Once to a man called Romney Brown

But even a gypsy caravan was too much settling down

And they say roses faded, rough weather and hard booze

Well, maybe that's the price you pay for chains that you refuse, oh

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing

And I miss her more than words can ever say

If I could just taste all of her wildness now

If I could hold her in my arms today

And she wouldn't want me any other way

And I wouldn't want her any other way

And she wouldn't want me any other way

Written by: Richard Thompson

Stopka Shazam

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