Take me back to my Western boat,. Let me fish off Cape St. Mary's,. Where the hagdowns sail and the foghorns wail,. With my friends the Browns and the Clearys,.
If you're out. out of luck. days go by. lights go out. . And if you don't care. then i shouldn't care. . at all (lights out). at all (lights out). at all (lights out).
(Hans York). . You don't like the sunshine even when it's cold. Don't you miss it this time, don't wait 'till you're old. And your days are gone morning will show no more.
(Hans York/ Phil Cohen). . The falling leaves whisper of love that's dying,. still my mind is telling me to keep on trying.. And I continue denying what I know to be true,.
Love and maple syrup goes together. Like the sticky winds of winter. When they meet. When lonely lovers come to rest. Beneath the trees they do their best.
Looking at the rain. Feeling the pain. Of love lost running though. My brain. Looking at the wind. Watching it spin. The leaves along the street. You win.
From the railhead to the boatyard. From the factory to the farm. From the mine to the mill yard. I've weathered the storm. . From the bar room to the bedpost.
That long thin dawn, that long thin dawn is coming on again. . I've seen the hills of Frisco and the streets of Montreal. In every town I've been to I've had someone to call.
Where the long river flows it flows by my window. Where the tall timber grows, it grows 'round my door. Where the mountain meets the sky and the white clouds fly.
I was in some timeless space. Timeless face of my embrace. Held empty air and empty space. All on a sunny day. . She lived by the bounding main. To Baltimore I took a plane.
These are just the simple facts, I will relate to you. Though they are not connected, each and every one is true. If they seem a bit untidy, well, unraveling them is fun.
The leaves of grass will not pass on. Though the millstones grind them into dust. For the earth shall give new life to them. But only the grass will grow once more.
Another lazy mornin', no need to get down on anyone. My son, coffee's in the kitchen, woman on the run. No need to get bothered, I'll think about Monday.
Before the autumn's wake. Before the night blooms. Beyond last pure snowflakes. I'll melt with winter. Cause winter is that fake. . Please let me find you.
Avec ma gueule de métèque,. De Juif errant, de pâtre grec. Et mes cheveux aux quatre vents,. Avec mes yeux tout délavés. Qui me donnent l'air de rêver,.
Paroles : Maurice Vidalin et Michel Fugain. Musique : Muchel Fugain. 1973 by ditions Musicales le Minotaure. 1. Y'a dans le sud de la Louisiane. Et dans un coin du Canada.
Paroles : Maurice Vidalin. Musique : Muchel Fugain et Georges Blaness. 1976 by ditions Musicales le Minotaure. 1. Le printemps est arriv, sors de ta maison.
I dreamed of a devil last night. He tempted me with a wicked tongue and a rough hand. Saying "it's alright, honey it's alright. You can leave that man".