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Stop bl**dy singing wife & pick me four footie teams for tomorrow
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Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love, I need your love
God speed your love to me
Lonely rivers flow
To the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh
"Wait for me, wait for me"
I'll be coming home; wait for me
Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered, hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love, I need your love
God speed your love to me
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To Ramona
Ramona, come closer,
Shut softly your watery eyes.
The pangs of your sadness
Shall pass as your senses will rise.
The flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike at times.
And there's no use in tryin'
T' deal with the dyin',
Though I cannot explain that in lines.
Your cracked country lips,
I still wish to kiss,
As to be under the strength of your skin.
Your magnetic movements
Still capture the minutes I'm in.
But it grieves my heart, love,
To see you tryin' to be a part of
A world that just don't exist.
It's all just a dream, babe,
A vacuum, a scheme, babe,
That sucks you into feelin' like this.
I can see that your head
Has been twisted and fed
By worthless foam from the mouth.
I can tell you are torn
Between stayin' and returnin'
On back to the South.
You've been fooled into thinking
That the finishin' end is at hand.
Yet there's no one to beat you,
No one t' defeat you,
'Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.
I've heard you say many times
That you're better 'n no one
And no one is better 'n you.
If you really believe that,
You know you got
Nothing to win and nothing to lose.
From fixtures and forces and friends,
Your sorrow does stem,
That hype you and type you,
Making you feel
That you must be exactly like them.
I'd forever talk to you,
But soon my words,
They would turn into a meaningless ring.
For deep in my heart
I know there is no help I can bring.
Everything passes,
Everything changes,
Just do what you think you should do.
And someday maybe,
Who knows, baby,
I'll come and be cryin' to you.
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Hi all;
Who out there remembers;
Song for Raymondo ?
1972.
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I wish I was in Carrickfergus
Only for nights in Ballygrand
I would swim over the deepest ocean
The deepest ocean, my love to find
But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over
And neither have I the wings to fly
If I could find me a handsome boatman
To ferry me over my love and I
My childhood days bring back sweet reflections
The happy times I spent so long ago
My boyhood friends and kind relations
Have all past on now like melting snow
I'll spend my da - ys an endless rover
Soft is the grass and sure, my bed is free
Oh but to be back, in carrickfergus
To strike that lonely road, down by the sea
And in kilkenny it is reported
On marble stone there as black as ink
With gold and silver I would support her
But I'll sing no more now til I get a drink
For I'm drunk today and I'm seldom sober
A handsome rover from town to town
Ah but I'm sick now my days are numbered
Come all ye young men and lay me
down.
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The wagons were painted in crimson and gold,
as they rattled along in the rain,
As the travelling circus rolled into St Louis,
and set up their tents in the rain,
all the children would laugh at the painted giraff,
and the tattooed lady from Spain,
and Raymondo the clown,
with his grease painted,
and his heart full of sawdust and pain.
The star of the circus was Madam Miranda,
the young ballerina from France,
Night after night, in a circle of light,
on a silver white stand she'd dance,
Round and round in a ring, such a beautiful thing,
to the sound of the tiny bass band,
And Raymondo would stare,
at her long golden hair,
and the lily, she held in her hand.
On Saturday night, she was dressed all in white,
and the music was happy and loud,
I will never forget, on her last pirouette,
how she turned and waved to the crowd,
Oh the crowd saw it all,
she had stumbled and fall'n,
and his heart fell as heavy as lead,
as her ran to her side,
we could see as he cried,
that the young ballerina was dead.
So roll up your bags boys,
and bring down the flags,
and pick up your travelling load,
For the wagons are packed,
and the mirror is cracked,
and it's time to be on the road,
For the show must go on,
they'll expect us by dawn,
at the outskirts of Old Louisville,
And the two will remain,
the clown and his pain,
and the lady
asleep....on the hill.
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