1. |
Johnny
03:55
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I heard about Johnny a long time ago
in a noisy bar from a fine british girl
rain was pouring down outside and
they were playing some rock n roll
Johnny was a simple man
his coat, his guitar and nothing else
no father, no mother, no friends
not even a home to live in
Johnny was afraid
Johnny was a friend of mine
Nobody knows where he was going
that day, the cold, the snow
looking for someone or something
to fill his pockets and soul
There are two things you can do,
he used to say
grab an umbrella and hang out
or stay home and watch the rain
Johnny was afraid
Johnny was a friend of mine
What are you thinking about Johnny
climbing the steps of that train
you're dreaming so hard
you're having a nosebleed
Johnny was afraid
Johnny was a friend of mine
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2. |
East Paris (intro)
00:45
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(instrumental)
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3. |
East Paris
03:02
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She lives in east Paris
in a nice blue house
where time seems to never pass
She's got a little red guitar
and a lot of things to sing
and a lot of life to paint
She, could say everything
saying nothing but
but with her smile
She, she you'd put her in
your little pocket and
bring her always with you
Now she, she is two but she
she has always been
and time keeps staying away from her
She lived in east Paris
in a nice blue house
where time seems to never pass
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4. |
Budapest in the rain
03:57
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Is that you the one that walks the riverside?
Is that you that walks faltering through the night?
empty is your gaze, your eyes seem still as new
there’s no way back now, there’s no way to wake up
Let the the cold flow out into my veins
pictures of budapest in the rain
I’m not a hero, i’m a loser running away
here i lie now, on grass covered in dew
pain can't kill me, pain will be my friend
fall will judge me, but spring will be more kind
Let the the cold flow out into my veins
pictures of budapest in the rain
What will i say
approaching the stars
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5. |
Granada's beggars
05:04
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Rags of clothes, dust and dirty faces
begging for bread, hand in hand
everyone knew them in town
brother and sister and not much else
One night the air was cold and wet
far was their refuge, too far to try
was it insanity? was it just pride?
they walked along their written destiny
They found them in the snow, at dawn
someone once said that life is but a glass of wine
you can drink it slow or in one breath
they just can't drink it at all
One night the air was cold and wet
far was their refuge, too far to try
was it insanity? was it just pride?
they walked along their written destiny
They found them in the snow, at dawn
begging for help, hand in hand
rags of clothes, dust and smiling faces
begging for bread, hand in hand
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6. |
The cripple of Bruges
04:28
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What if I was not here with my cart
What if I was not playing my part
What if I was not the cripple of bruges
What if I fell not into disgrace
What if I had not this messy face
What if I was not the cripple of bruges
If I had legs i'd run to you
beautiful girl passing by
If I was rich i'd buy you things
all the things that you need
What if I was not under this rain
What if I was not here with my pain
What if I was not the cripple of bruges
What if I was not singing sad songs
What if I was whom she belongs
What if I was not the cripple of bruges
What if I was not the cripple of bruges
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7. |
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(instrumental)
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8. |
The fiddler of Dooney
04:58
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(poem by W.B. Yeats)
When i play on my fiddle in dooney
folk dance like a wave of the sea
my cousin is priest in kilvarnet
my brother in mocharabuiee
I passed my brother and cousin:
they read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the sligo fair.
When we come at the end of time,
to peter sitting in state,
he will smile on the three old spirits,
but call me first through the gate;
For the good are always the merry,
save by an evil chance,
and the merry love the fiddle
and the merry love to dance
And when the folk there spy me,
they will all come up to me,
with ‘here is the fiddler of dooney!’
and dance like a wave of the sea
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9. |
Last train to Camden
04:26
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Burlesque dancer, messy make up
sewing her dress, sewing her dreams
Old nun sitting just next to her
in the back seats of the last train to camden
Thief stealing jewels, from the bag of a young girl
cop in plain clothes, watching in silence
Gipsy boy, playing guitar
no one caring on the last train to camden
Tears in their eyes, and smile on their lips
no one could save 'em from dreams
Last shift waitress, tiredly eating
staring at her shoes in tatters
Homeless man in his dark long coat
sleeps and weeps on last train to camden
Tears in their eyes, and smile on their lips
no one could save 'em from dreams
Acrobat playing with his gravity
ignoring what's his direction
Burning down the rope between
the busy moon and the last train to camden
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Johnny Bemolle's Rome, Italy
We know just a little or nothing about the mysterious Johnny Bemolle. We go around to tell it through his stories and his songs.
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