connie converse все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Down this road on a Monday morning
came a-riding three strangers.
Down this road on a Monday morning
came a-riding three strangers.

There was one wearing green,
and one a peacock feather,
and one wearing overshoes

Shall we dine out,
my dear, and dance the night away?
Don’t say you’re tired;
you know you haven’t worked all day.

We paid the rent
finally, and we’re free to be be free.
Come now and waltz

When my man goes to sea,
he steps so high and free.
I think I know as I watch him go
that he has no need for me, for me.

And when my man comes home
and waits a while to roam,
I think I see when he smiles at me

Honeybee,
go and tell a starling
to go and tell my darling
to hurry home to me.

Honeybee,
say I’m sad and lonely,
and say I’m wishing’ only

How sad, how lovely,
how short, how sweet,
to see that sunset
at the end of the street.

And the day gathered in
to a single light,
and the shadows rising

I have considered the lilies:
they never toil; they only bloom.
They never feel chilly or tired or silly
and they don't need much room.

I have considered the lilies,
I have considered how they grow.
Tell me, tell me how to be a lily,

Weep a tear for John Brady;
seven long years he loved his lady.
He was a simple guy,
singin': 'I'll love her till I die.'

Weep a tear for John's lady;
seven long years she went with Brady.
All he could say or sigh

There once was a girl in the olden days
grew weary of men with a roving gaze -
'Farewell, fickle lovers; goodbye, goodbye,
for I'm falling in love with the man in the sky.'

The man in the sky, he walks in haste
with three bright buckles around his waist
and a great dog near and a little dog nigh

I knew a man once, very long ago:
they say that he was born in Buffalo,
but I don’t believe it -
Buffalo was never sufficiently gilded and pearled.

And this man turned out to be
the playboy of the western world.

People say a roving woman
is likely not to be better than she ought to be;
so, when I stray away from where I’ve got to be,
someone always takes me home.

A lady never should habituate saloons,
and that is where I find myself on many afternoons.
But just as I begin to blow away the foam,

I’m just a dusty cowhand,
a dusty, thirsty soul.
I used to keep my money
in a pocket with a hole.

I’ve got one ambition
like wishing for the moon:
to drink a glass of pleasure,

There is a vine growing on my garden wall,
and it is brown and withered in the fall,
and in the spring its leaves are green and blossoms all aflame,
but, spring or fall, still I love you just the same.

There is a gate halfway down my garden wall,
and in the night I lock it, bolts and all,
and in the day it's open wide to all who would come through,

Ever since we met the world's been upside-down,
and if you don't stop troublin' me you'll drive me out of town.
But if you go away, as trouble ought to do,
where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to?

My bed is made of stone, a star has burnt my eye,
I'm goin' down to the willow tree and teach her how to cry.
But if you go away, as trouble ought to do,

We lived alone, my house and I.
We had the earth, we had the sky.
I had a lamp against the dark,
and I was happy as a lark.

I had a stove and a window-screen,
I had a table painted green.
Sat on a chair with a broken back,