L'e la fiola dal paisan l'e la fiola dal paisan tutti dicon che l'e bela l'e la fiola dal paisan tutti dicon che l'e bela Tanto bella come l'e tanto bella
Translation: Modena City Ramblers. The Paisan from Fiola.
L'e la fiola dal paisan l'e la fiola dal paisan tutti dicon che l'e bela l'e la fiola dal paisan tutti dicon che l'e bela Tanto bella come l'e tanto
Tom adair / matt dennis It was winter in manhattan Falling snowflakes filled the air The streets were covered with a film of ice But a little simple
I am just another fool, and I have to, keep telling myself that I am just a hypocrit, and I have to, keep calling you one And I forgot to bite my tongue
I have walked the earth so many times before your birth, Today is only yesterday's tomorrow. And as the gardener in Eden it was I who sowed the seed then
And so once again My dear Johnny my dear friend And so once again you are fighting us all And when I ask you why You raise your sticks and cry, and I
There once was a farmer, who took a young miss in back of the barn where he gave her a lecture on horses and chickens and eggs and told her that she
I remember the Night That sight's still inside On old men's streets Ghosts of never beens Voices of the Violin Cried for many Nights Flames of the mind
Well before you know it he is born, He's looking up through painted bars And he hears a hairy stranger say "He'll learn to play the violin." His mother
A refuse from a silver phial Put her faith into the moons and stars Said she had a mind that slept inside tomorrow And time could only heal it's scars
Falling, falling Gonna drop like a stone I'm fallin' through the atmosphere On a warm afternoon If lovers discover That everyone dies So don't tell me
It seems you think that thirty-five is just a little too old But I'm not ready yet to be put out in the cold I've got plenty of good love left woman if
Once we were so happy, you were my very own But then you bought that guitar and you ruined our happy home You told me that you're gonna pick, you're gonna
When I woke up it was raining Well, I got soaked When I woke up this morning I was cold and wet and broken I ain't got no destination I'm just gonna
Sunken are the eyes of my creation into a glass containing smelly puss Whatever sense of gratitude I may have felt It went away too soon He was your
Fiddle Set E minor jig (traditional) The Moon Coin (traditional) Shawn's Lament for He is in Hell (Dan Stacey) Limerick Lassies (traditional)
