I woke up this mornin' with my mind My mind, it was stayed on freedom I woke up this mornin' with my mind My mind, it was stayed on freedom I woke up
Wish I was in bowling greens Sitting in my chair When I'm around my pretty little gal When I'm around my dear, when I'm around my dear Bowling Green,
I came home the other night as drunk as I could be I saw a horse in the stable where my horse ought to be I said to my wife, my pretty little wife, explain
You made me a pallet on the floor Oh, yes, you made me a pallet on the floor When I had no place to go you opened up your door And you made me a pallet
Here I sit on Buttermilk hill Who can play me, cry my fill And every tear and turn of milk Johnny is gone for a soldier I sold my rock, I sold my reel
Three gates to the north and three in the south There's three in the east and three in the west There's twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah Oh, what
Build, little weaver bird Build, little weaver bird Build, little weaver bird Happy [?] 'cross the sky Raindrops fall, weaver bird [Something]s fly [
(By Sandy Denny. U.F.O. Music, Inc. (C) 1972) I'm a long way from you, I'm a long way from home. And who cares for the f Of being alone. The notes
My heart was ance as blythe and free As simmer days were lang, But a bonnie westlin weaver lad Has gart me change my sang. Chorus: Tae the weaver's gin
My heart was ance as blithe and free As simmer days were lang; But a bonie, westlin weaver lad Has gart me change my sang. Chorus.-To the weaver's gin
1st verse Cries will fill the dead of night Screaming for the morning light. Insane maneuvers of the mind Shall sow the wrath of all mankind. In crystal
Tejedores de ilusion, comulgadores Tejen grandes vendas, para ocultar La estancada realidad en que vivimos Una triste dignidad Un dia nuevo vendra y
TO THE WEAVER"S GIN YE GO (Robert Burns) My heart was ance as blythe and free As simmer days were lang; But a bonie, westlin weaver lad Has gart me
Can you put a smile back on all these different faces Of all these people from such different places And if you can succeed what then will you achieve
Oh, when I was a tailor, I carried my bodkin and shears When I was a weaver, I carried my roods and my gear My temples also, my small clothes and reed
Did you see it move There's something there It's in this very cloth that I weave In the most peculiar ways that we behave It's the time of the turning
Run, run, as fast as you can You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man You can look, look, hard as you can You can't see me, I'm the Gingerbread Man
Once there was a weaver A weaver like no other On his loom he weaved a tune A song of all creation Woven with the thread of life That all be joined as